“I fear I am very dense, madame. Am I to understand that you and I have been acting some comedy for the edification of the spectators? or should it be a tragedy?”
“Why play upon words, Count? A tragedy is what the audience expected, undoubtedly, for the fall of a great man is far more tragic than his death, but the slightest possible alteration in the original motif makes a happy ending not only natural, but inevitable.”
“My stupidity is colossal, madame. Might I venture to entreat you to point out to me the alteration to which you refer?”
“Are you trying to tease me, Count? The audience saw only a pair of politicians, each striving to outwit the other. But on the stage were a man and woman playing into each other’s hands.”
“With reference to what, madame?”
“You are indeed dense, my dear Count.” There was some irritation in the Princess’s tone. “You force me to speak with disagreeable plainness. They were playing for a crown and a ring. But why this extraordinary display of ignorance in a matter you have discussed with me for weeks?”
“It seems to me, madame, that one of the actors on the stage was under the same delusion as the audience. Would it suit your Royal Highness to drop metaphor for a moment, and let us see how we stand?”
The Princess was genuinely puzzled. She lifted her eyes to Cyril’s face, but discovered there no response to her smile. Was it possible that the man had misunderstood her from the beginning? No, it was merely that he was cautious, he would not commit himself without specific encouragement. “You cannot have forgotten our compact already?” she cried merrily.
“I was not aware that there was any compact between us, madame.”
The Princess began to perceive whither all this tended. “Not that I was to make you Prince of Palestine? and you——” she stopped suddenly.