I besought you to let me call upon you and to fix a day.

I signed myself your humble and devoted slave, Napoleon Errol." He ceased, still laughing queerly, with his lower lip between his teeth.
Anne stood silent for many seconds.
At last, "You must never come to see me," she said very decidedly.
"Not if I bring the mother as a chaperon ?" he jested.
"Neither you nor your mother must ever come to see me again," she said firmly.

"And--Nap--though I know that the writing of that letter meant nothing whatever to you, I am more sorry than I can say that you sent it." He threw back his head arrogantly.

"What ?" he said.

"Has the queen no further use for her jester?
Am I not even to write to you then ?" "I think not," she said.
"And why ?" he demanded imperiously.
"I think you know why," she said.
"Do I know why?
Is it because you are afraid of your husband ?" "No." "Afraid of me then ?" There was almost a taunt in the words.
"No," she said again.
"Why, then ?" He was looking full into her eyes.