The Duke, keeping her hand still in his, said mockingly: "You pretty fool, would you refuse fortune?
Hark, madame, I am a King's son." I saw no movement in her, but the light was dim.

He went on, lowering his voice a little, yet not much.
"And I may be a King; stranger things have come to pass.

Wouldn't you like to be a Queen ?" He laughed as he put the question; he lacked the care or the cunning to make even a show of honesty.
"Let me go," I heard her whisper in a strained, timid voice.
"Well, for to-night you shall go, sweetheart, but not without a kiss, I swear." She was frightened now and sought to propitiate him, saying gently and with attempted lightness, "Your Grace has my hand prisoner.

You can work your will on it." "Your hand! I mean your lips this time," he cried in audacious insolence.

He came nearer to her, his arm crept round her waist.