"That's encouraging," he said, staring gloomily at the food he had put
aside. "You are quite sure you promised Vos Engo that you'd marry him?"
"No. I did not promise him that I'd marry him," she said, leaning back
and surveying him between narrowed lids.
"I beg your pardon. You said you had promised--"
"You did not allow me time to finish. I meant to say that I had promised
to let him know in a day or two. That is all, Mr. King." There was a
suspicious tremor in her voice and her gaze wavered beneath his
unbelieving stare.
"What's that?" he demanded. "You--you don't mean to say that--Oh, Lord!
I wonder! I wonder if I have a chance--just a ghost of a chance?" He
leaned very close, incredulous, fascinated. "What is it that you are
going to let him know? Yes or no?"
"That was the question I was considering when the brigands caught me,"
she answered, meeting his gaze fairly. "I haven't thought of it since."
"Of course, he is in your own class," said Truxton glumly.
She hesitated an instant, her face growing very serious. "Mr. King, has
no one told you my name--who I am?" she asked.
"You are the Prince's aunt, that's all I know."
"No more his aunt in reality than Jack Tullis is his uncle. I thought
you understood."
"Who are you, then?"
"I am Jack Tullis's sister, a New Yorker bred and born, and I live not
more than two blocks from your--"
"For the love of--" he began blankly; then words failed him, which was
just as well.
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