"A very extraordinary situation, indeed, Your Highness,--as you state
it," she said.
"As I state it?" he echoed.
She nodded. "You have omitted the one material fact in the case."
"And what is that?" he asked.
The fan stopped, and she laughed lightly.
"Simply this: I am not Armand Dalberg's wife."
(Dehra reached over and took my hand. The King looked at us both and
nodded; then clapped me on the knee.)
For a space, Lotzen stared at Mrs. Spencer--and she smiled sweetly back
at him.
"Not his wife!" he ejaculated, presently.
Her smile became a laugh.
"No, monsieur; not his wife."
This time, Lotzen's stare was even longer. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
"I thought, for a moment, you actually meant it," he said.
She put both elbows on the table and leaned forward.
"Come, monsieur, let us be frank with each other," she said. "Not only
am I not Armand Dalberg's wife, but you have always known it."
He frowned. "My dear girl," he said, "I've been sorrowfully accepting
your own word that you are his wife; how should I know that you've
been----" he hesitated.
She finished it for him--
"Lying, Duke, lying," she laughed.
He held up his hands, protestingly.
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