"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A
princess? That is nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of
all the Russias, the most unapproachable woman in the world, I
should not hesitate to profess my love, to find some means of
declaring it to you. I love you. To what further depths can I
fall to prove it?" Again he sought the window, and leaned
heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected
blow.
As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a
sensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without
question. At this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions.
Here was a man. The mood which seized her was as novel as this
love which asked nothing but love, and the willingness to pay
any price; and the desire to test both mood and love to their
full strength was irresistible. She was loved for herself alone;
hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess more. To
surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day,
to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.
He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not
quite as old and honored as her own; in his world he stood as
high as she stood in hers.
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