I--I never did before."
Pure triumph filled me. It was I--Rudolf Rassendyll--who had won her! I
caught her round the waist.
"You didn't love me before?" I asked.
She looked up into my face, smiling, as she whispered:
"It must have been your Crown. I felt it first on the Coronation Day."
"Never before?" I asked eagerly.
She laughed low.
"You speak as if you would be pleased to hear me say 'Yes' to that," she
said.
"Would 'Yes' be true?"
"Yes," I just heard her breathe, and she went on in an instant: "Be
careful, Rudolf; be careful, dear. He will be mad now."
"What, Michael? If Michael were the worst--"
"What worse is there?"
There was yet a chance for me. Controlling myself with a mighty effort,
I took my hands off her and stood a yard or two away. I remember now the
note of the wind in the elm trees outside.
"If I were not the King," I began, "if I were only a private
gentleman--"
Before I could finish, her hand was in mine.
"If you were a convict in the prison of Strelsau, you would be my King,"
she said.
And under my breath I groaned, "God forgive me!" and, holding her hand
in mine, I said again:
"If I were not the King--"
"Hush, hush!" she whispered. "I don't deserve it--I don't deserve to be
doubted. Ah, Rudolf! does a woman who marries without love look on the
man as I look on you?"
And she hid her face from me.
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