"My Elza! Can you not tell me that even in defeat I may be victorious? It is you more than all else that I desire."
Without warning his arms were around her, holding her fiercely to him, his face close to hers.
"Elza! With you, defeat would be victory. And with you—now—if you would but say the word—together we will surmount every obstacle.—"
He was kissing her, bending back her head, and his grip upon her shoulder was bruising the flesh. No longer Tarrano, Conqueror of the universe, just Tarrano the man. Terror surged within Elza's heart.
"Tarrano!"
"Elza dear—my Elza—"
"Tarrano!" She fought with him. "Tarrano, do you dare—I tell you—"
The frightened pleading of a woman at bay. And then abruptly he cast her off. His laugh was grim.
"What a fool I am! Tarrano the weakling!" He leaped from the couch and began pacing the room. "Tarrano the weakling! To what depths has Tarrano fallen!"
He stopped before her. "I ask your pardon, Lady Elza. This has been madness. Forget my words—all madness."