“Die! You!” And, as she mocked him thus, the cold irony of the English tongue tore aside the veil of the American accent, and when the Duke stared into her eyes he had leapt up and run away for shame but that her arm was still tight about his shoulder.
“You, Leonora, you! And so you have revenged yourself!”
She whispered: “Be still!”
And as he made to tear himself away, she said: “Yes, I wanted to be revenged. I wanted you to fall in love with me. I wanted you to look a fool.”
“Then you must be very content, Leonora! Let me go now.”
“Let you go?” she cried. “Let you go! But are you mad!”
“Oh, God,” he said pitifully, “what is this new mockery!”
“You see,” she sighed, “I’ve gone and fallen in love with you again! That rather takes the edge off my joke, doesn’t it? Oh, dear! Maximilian, I have waited to love you as I love you now ever since I married you four years ago. But you never would let me. Be honest, sweet—would you ever let me love you? You were always the world’s spoilt darling, the brilliant and dashing and wealthy Duke of Mall—and I your American wife! Darling, what a lot of trouble you give those who love you! I have had to go through all the bother of divorcing you to make you love me, and now I suppose I must go through all the bother of marrying you again because you’ve made me love you——”
“Oh, but listen!” he made to protest.
“I certainly won’t!” she cried. “I must say, though, that you’ve made love to me divinely these last few months, and the real Ava would have fallen for you, I’m sure, if she hadn’t been in California all this while. I dyed my hair a little, but the only real difference between me and your wife was that I listened to you while you talked about yourself. Darling,” said she, “kiss me, else how shall I know that we are engaged to be married?”