"Let us be frank, as you suggest. You say you are not Armand's
wife--that, I am only too glad to believe; I am delighted. You say I
have always known it--that, of course, is a mistake. You say I am
playing a part, now--that, I don't understand."
"_Premier artiste_, surely," she laughed. Then, suddenly, grew sober.
"By all means, let us have a frank talk," she said. "It was for that I
asked you here to-night--But, first, light me a cigarette, and then go
and sit down in that chair."
"Buy me with a smile," he said.
She bought him--then he did her bidding.
"I was silly enough to hope it was only I that you wanted to see," he
said.
"My note gave no ground for such hopes, Your Highness," she said. "I
told you exactly what I wanted--to discuss a matter of immediate
importance."
"Oh, yes, I know--but then I was still thinking of the Masque."
She looked at him naively. "Surely, Duke, you are old enough to know
that, of all follies, a Masque is chiefest and dies with the break of
day."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I am learning it, now, at any rate."
"And, don't forget, it was you who ended the pleasant promenade, to
pick a quarrel with the--Masque in Black.
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