"A better marksman would have compelled me to break my engagement, princess," I said.
She extended one hand and rested a finger lightly upon the wound, as though she intended the mere touch to heal it. With the other hand she gently turned my face towards hers; yet she did it in a way that was devoid of intimacy. Somehow she changed what might have been suggestive of familiarity, into a gesture of womanly tenderness; and there was undoubtedly horror in her eyes, and a flash of angry resentment, too.
"You think that I am responsible for this?" she asked, releasing me and stepping backward.
I bowed, but made no reply.
Impulsively, she crossed the room, and from the floor, where she had doubtless thrown it after reading, secured a crumpled wad of paper, and after straightening and smoothing it, gave it into my hand.
"Read," she said.
"'Our interview in the garden was overheard by two persons beside ourselves,'" I read, aloud. "'One of them, fortunately, was a friend; the other may not keep the engagement made with you.'"
"It is from Ivan," she said. "It is because I received that note that I would have been anxious if you had been detained. It did not occur to me to doubt that you would be prompt until I read that. I did not doubt you, Mr. Dubravnik. I might have killed myself, but I would not have—ah! To think that you could deem me capable of such an act as that!"
"I did not princess, until—well, there was no other theory. At all events, I have changed my mind. Who is Ivan?"
"My brother."