In her nervous restlessness she broke away from his arms again. Her hands noiselessly clapped each other repeatedly. She could not remain still.
“Why not?” repeated the Prince.
“There are many reasons,” she said, in a low voice, still maintaining the distance between them.
“Nay, think a little while, and see whether your heart will not suggest to you that the mere telling of your troubles to me may be their solution. Remember I shall be your honorable husband very soon”—he smiled a trifle sadly—“and then I shall command you to tell me the truth, you know.”
Wistaria sat very still now. Ever since Genji had come upon her that first day with the wounded Prince in her arms Wistaria had been a prey to the utmost despair and anguish. The infinite faith and trust of her lover filled her continually with a greater horror of her deceit, for she could not forget, not for one moment, the part she had been forced to play in the undoing of the Prince. How could she add to her other iniquities by inveigling this noble and generous-hearted Prince into a marriage which would not fail to debase him? And yet she had no alternative, for otherwise his life would be the forfeit. Was it possible for her to tell him all this? Would it be, as he had said, a solution of her misery to confess her own deceit and warn him of the danger in which he stood, that of marrying into an outcast family?
As she thought thus sadly, the gentle voice of her lover brought the tears to her eyes. But she held them back, almost feverishly placing a greater distance between herself and the Prince. In that moment when his tender eyes held hers in their gaze, while he trustfully waited for her to speak, she was ready to tell him everything.
“You are about to tell me all,” he said, as though he understood her unspoken volition. “Do not mistrust me. Believe in my adoration for you. Give me thy heart completely.”
A sudden shivering took possession of Wistaria. Instead of speaking, she drew her sleeve across her face, a characteristic habit with her when in despair. Gradually her head sank forward, until she knelt at his feet in an attitude of humility.
“Nay, do not kneel,” he cried, “nor hide thy face from me. Do not so, I beseech thee.”
Having permitted his assistance in rising, she freed herself from his encircling arm.