you can find me out
here--and--and take me away from His Highness."

Before he could reply she had smiled and nodded and rejoined Koltsoff,
who was waiting, not without impatience, at the foot of the steps. He
took her arm and led the way toward a small promontory overlooking the
ocean. His demeanor was silent, romantic. But somehow Anne was
neither interested nor thrilled. As they stopped at the edge of the
cliff, she released her arm which his fingers had tightly pressed. He
took a cigarette from his case and then impatiently tossed it away.

"I spoke to your father this afternoon," he said, "as to our
understanding."

"Our understanding!"

"About the dowry. He declined to yield to the European custom."

"How like father! Of course that changes your attitude toward me."
Her voice was cool and unwavering.

He raised his hands as though despairing.

"It does not." He confronted her so that they almost touched. "Is it
possible that you can think of that? I replied to your father that I
was going to take you anyway."

"You--are going--to--take me anyway! What do you mean, Prince
Koltsoff?"

"Mean! What do I mean! Why, no less than that dowry or no dowry, you
are mine."

"But you have n't asked me. I have said nothing to make you believe
that."

"Eh?" Koltsoff tossed his head dazedly.

"You said nothing!" he exclaimed as she remained silent. "You
said--Bah! Are mere words only to serve? You lay in my arms not a day
since. What words could have been so eloquent? And your eyes--the
look in them! Words! Ah, Anne, could I not see? Could I not read?"
His hand was on her arm but she pulled sharply back.

"Please, Prince Koltsoff! Listen! You--since you have been willing to
recall it to me--did take me in your arms." Indignation was rapidly
mastering her. "I did not lead you to do it. I did not want you to.
I am--not that kind. I was tired, weak in mind and body and,
yes,--under your control, somehow. You took advantage of it. I didn't
know then--I fancied it might be love, don't you know. I even asked
you if it was--"

"You asked me. I replied. You did not deny."

"No, but I deny now: It was not love."

"Not love!" Koltsoff moved close to her. "Then may I ask what it was?
Surely you have not questioned _my_ motives?"

"No. If I had, you should have known it before this. My own motives,
or rather, the lack of them--but we won't talk about it any more."

She made as tho