"It is delightful to know that you trusted me." Mr.Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever seen softened for a moment his face.
"Dear Lucille," he murmured, "how could you ever doubt it?
There was a day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job.

But afterwards--well, you see that I am here." She laughed.
"I knew that you would come," she said, "and yet I knew that it would be a struggle between you and them.

For--the Prince--" she murmured, lowering her voice, "had pledged his word to keep us apart." Mr.Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of the man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the room.
"The Prince," he said softly, "is faithful to his ancient enmities." Lucille's face was troubled.

She turned to her companion with a little grimace.
"He would have me believe," she murmured, "that he is faithful to other things besides his enmities." Mr.Sabin smiled.
"I am not jealous," he said softly, "of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!" As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however, have been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and looked for a moment towards them.

He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey.
Almost at once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
"The Prince's watch-dog," Lucille murmured.