It occurred to her that he might be looking across the moon-lit
park, looking directly at her through all that shadowy distance. She was
conscious of a strange glow in her cheeks and a quickening of the blood
as she pulled the folds of her gown across her bare throat.
"Not the moon, nor the stars, nor the light in St. Valentine's, but the
black thing away off there on the earth," said a soft voice behind her,
and Beverly started as if the supernatural had approached her. She
turned to face the princess, who stood almost at her side.
"Yetive! How did you get here?"
"That is what you are looking at, dear," went on Yetive, as if
completing her charge. "Why are you not in bed?"
"And you? I thought you were sound asleep long ago," murmured Beverly,
abominating the guilty feeling that came over her. The princess threw
her arm about Beverly's shoulder.
"I have been watching you for half an hour," she said gently. "Can't two
look at the moon and stars as well as one? Isn't it my grim old castle?
Let us sit here together, dear, and dream awhile."
"You dear Yetive," and Beverly drew her down beside her on the
cushions. "But, listen: I want you to get something out of your head. I
was _not_ looking at anything in particular."
"Beverly, I believe you were thinking of Baldos," said the other, her
fingers straying fondly across the girl's soft hair.
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