It seemed almost as if their souls had journeyed toward each other, since the beginning of time.
That the princess should be abroad with Castleman and his daughter unattended by even a lady-in-waiting seemed improbable--almost impossible.
My wavering mind veered with each moment from the conviction that Yolanda was the princess to a feeling of certainty that she was not, and back again.

That she was the princess seemed at one moment indubitably true; the next moment it appeared absurdly impossible.

Still, Castleman's words rang in my ears.
I was glad that Max was riding a hundred yards behind me.

My first determination was that he should know nothing of what I had heard.

My second was that he and I should leave the party at Metz.