My love was aster of me.

But 'neath your disdain it was transmuted oddly." He checked the passion that was vibrating in his voice and resumed after a pause, in the calm, slow tones, soft and musical, that were his own.

"There is scarce the need for so much recapitulation.

When the power was mine I bent you unfairly to my will; you did as much by me when the power suddenly became yours.

It was a strange war between us, and I accepted its conditions.