“If you wish to add to your grief by ascertaining the truth, Drury, I will tell you,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” he cried. “Tell me—I can bear anything now. Tell me why she refuses any longer to allow me at her side—I who love her so devotedly.”
“Her decision is only a just one,” I replied. “It must cause you deep grief, I know, but it is better for you to be made aware of the truth at once, for she knew that a great and poignant sorrow must fall upon you both one day.”
“Why?” he asked, still puzzled and leaning in his chair towards me.
“Because the woman you love—whom you know as Miss Gottorp—has never yet revealed her true identity to you.”
“Ah! I see!” he cried, starting to his feet. “I guess what you are going to say. She—she is already married!”
“No.”
“Thank God for that!” he gasped. “Well, tell me.”
Again I paused, my eyes fixed steadily upon his.
“Her true name is not Gottorp. She is Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Natalia Olga Nicolaievna of Russia, niece of His Majesty the Emperor!”