She knew that he had a long score against her to pay off, that he must hate her and would make her feel its hatred if he could; but he was not a man to indulge in unprofitable rancor.
She said between her teeth: “Do you suppose, if I wished to marry any man, I shouldn’t do it?”
“It is impossible to say,” murmured Prince Khris. “There are some persons so perverted that they do not like new-mown hay or early strawberries. There may be also persons so dead to beauty and to virtue that they do not appreciate the exquisite qualities of the Duchess of Otterbourne.”
“You old wretch!” she thought, with difficulty controlling herself from ordering him out of the room. “I had not the remotest intention of annexing your ci-devant son-in-law,” she said aloud; “but as you have put the idea in my head, perhaps I shall do it.”
“Are you sure it is I who put it there?” said Prince Khris, smiling. “Then allow me to take it out again. I do not intend you to marry Adrian Vanderlin.”
“What business would it be of yours if I did? He disgraced your daughter before all Europe.”
His face remained impassive. “You cannot wonder, then, if only out of vengeance I shall deny him the paradise of your embrace! Be my motive what it will, dear lady, take this for certain: I shall not allow you to carry out your present scheme.”
“Sir!” Anger flashed from her sapphire eyes, her voice was stifled by rage. Her “scheme”!—as if she were an intriguing horizontale, a nameless adventuress!
He laid down the cigarette which he had appreciated and finished.
“Remember,” he said serenely—“I can say that to Vanderlin which will prevent him from marrying you or any other woman.”