“Never! never!”
Her coldness, her innate imperiousness had vanished. She was no longer the Princess, but a woman striving with the temptation of a passion, which was snapping one by one the bands which had so long confined it. She had for one moment given it working room, and now she was reeling fainting in its grasp. With an intense, supreme effort she put out her arms and thrust him from her. He caught her wrists in his hands and held hers to his lips. So they stayed looking into each other’s eyes; he had but to spread out his arms to bring their faces together.
“Go!” she panted, “go! I—this is—ah, will you not respect me and let me go; yes, and end this madness?”
His lips scarcely moved as he answered tensely: “Yes, Princess, I will go if you bid me.”
“I bid you go.” An effort alone kept the words steady.
He lowered her hands, but still kept them in his own. “I have offended you?”
“You will if you do not obey me.” She was steadying herself now after the blind struggle. The rapture was thrust away; a few moments more, could she but keep command of herself, and she would be again the Princess as the world knew her.
Ludovic let her hands fall free. “At least, Princess,” he said with an effort, “you shall not say I do not respect you.”
“It is best,” she replied simply; and he longed to detect a sign of regret in her voice.
Like the sound that startles us from a dream came Minna’s voice in a terrified undertone as she rushed into the porch.