"I agree with you," said she regretfully. "You know how to hold your
tongue." He laughed harshly. "For once in a way, will you answer a
question?"
"I will not promise."
"You say that you are Dantan's friend. Is it true that he is to marry
the daughter of the Duke of Matz, Countess Iolanda?"
"It has been so reported."
"Is she beautiful?"
"Yes; exceedingly."
"But is he to marry her?" she insisted, she knew not why.
"How should I know, your highness?"
"If you call me 'your highness' again I'll despise you," she flared
miserably. "Another question. Is it true that the young Duke Christobal
fled because his father objected to his marriage with a game-warden's
daughter?"
"I have never heard so," with a touch of hauteur.
"Does he know that the girl is dead?" she asked cruelly. Baldos did not
answer for a long time. He stared at her steadily, his eyes expressing
no emotion from which she could judge him.
"I think he is ignorant of that calamity, Miss Calhoun," he said. "With
your permission, I shall withdraw. There is nothing to be gained by
delay." It was such a palpable affront that she shrank within herself
and could have cried.
Without answering, she walked unsteadily to the window and looked out
into the night. A mist came into her eyes. For many minutes she remained
there, striving to regain control of her emotions.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274