“And for the other thing——?”
“For the other thing—excuse my plain speaking—I do not think they have been honestly got.”
“By heavens!” shouted Coppinger. “There you attack and stab at me again. I like your plainness of speech. You do not spare me. I would not have you false and double like old Dunes.”
“Oh, Captain Coppinger! I give you thanks from the depths of my heart. It is kindly intended, and it is so good and noble of you, I feel that; for I have hurt you and reduced you to the state in which you now are, and yet you offer me the best things in your house—things of priceless value. I acknowledge your goodness; but just because I know I do not deserve this goodness I must decline what you offer.”
“Then come here and give me the key.”
She stepped lightly over the floor to him and handed him the great iron key to his store chamber. As she did so he caught her hand, bowed his dark head, and kissed her fingers.
“Captain Coppinger!” She started back, trembling, and snatched her hand from him.
“What! have I offended you again? Why not? A subject kisses the hand of his queen; and I am a subject, and you—you my queen.”