"Good morning," he said, extending his hand, which she did not see. She
was wondering how much he had seen and heard at midnight.
"I thought the troops were massing this morning," she said
coldly. "Don't you mass, too?"
"There is time enough for that, my dear. I came to have a talk with
you--in private," he said meaningly.
"It is sufficiently private here, Count Marlanx. What have you to say to
me?"
"I want to talk about last night. You were very reckless to do what you
did."
"Oh, you _were_ playing the spy, then?" she asked scornfully.
"An involuntary observer, believe me--and a jealous one. I had hoped to
win the affections of an innocent girl. What I saw last night shocked me
beyond expression."
"Well, you shouldn't have looked," she retorted, tossing her chin; and
the red feather in her hat bobbed angrily.
"I am surprised that one as clever as you are could have carried on an
amour so incautiously," he said blandly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I saw everything that occurred."
"Well, I'm not ashamed of it," obstinately. "Good-bye, Count Marlanx."
"One moment, please. I cannot let you off so easily. What right had you
to take that man into your room, a place sacred in the palace of
Graustark? Answer me, Miss Calhoun."
Beverly drew back in horror and bewilderment.
"Into my room?" she gasped.
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