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 cruel … but … but … wilt believe me if I say … that I am beset with calumnies … and …"

Hugh came a little closer and took one of her tiny, trembling hands in his, and there was no doubt that in his voice, too, there was a slight catch.

"Sweet Princess," he said gently, "believe me when I say that I have heard no calumny about thee which thy presence hath not by now dispelled."

She turned her face fully up to his and asked:

"Dost truly mean what thou sayest?"

"I swear it," he said earnestly.

"Nay! I will believe thee, for thou art great and good. I will believe thee if thou wilt look straight into mine eyes and if thou wilt kiss me between the brows, in token that thou art my friend." She raised herself on tiptoe, for Hugh Tankerville is very tall, and British, and stiff-backed. There was a curious, half-dazed look in his eyes as he looked down at the sweet face turned up to his. The veil had slipped down from her shoulders. The quaint Egyptian kalasiris, half transparent and clinging, gave her young figure the appearance of one of those precious idols which are preserved in European museums. A perfume of lotus blossom seemed to emanate from her, and about her whole being there was an exquisite savour of poetry and mysticism, mingled with truly human, charming womanhood.

For that brief moment I felt wildly, madly, stupidly jealous, and at the same time enraged with Hugh, who seemed to me so cold and impassive, when I would have given … well! … a great deal to stand in his place. At last he bent his tall six feet two inches and gave the kiss as she had begged.

The next instant she was gone and I had dragged