Part 8 (1/2)
'I have forgotten,' he said.
'You have forgotten! That is surely very wrong of you? You gave me to understand that it was something terribly important. But of course I knew it couldn't be, because no man, and especially no Prince, ever discussed anything really important with a woman.'
'Recollect, Miss Racksole, that this afternoon, here, I am not the Prince.'
'You are Count Steenbock, is that it?'
He started. 'For you only,' he said, unconsciously lowering his voice.
'Miss Racksole, I particularly wish that no one here should know that I was in Paris last spring.'
'An affair of State?' she smiled.
'An affair of State,' he replied soberly. 'Even Dimmock doesn't know. It was strange that we should be fellow guests at that quiet out-of-the-way hotel--strange but delightful. I shall never forget that rainy afternoon that we spent together in the Museum of the Trocadero. Let us talk about that.'
'About the rain, or the museum?'
'I shall never forget that afternoon,' he repeated, ignoring the lightness of her question.
'Nor I,' she murmured corresponding to his mood.
'You, too enjoyed it?' he said eagerly.
'The sculptures were magnificent,' she replied, hastily glancing at the ceiling.
'Ah! So they were! Tell me, Miss Racksole, how did you discover my ident.i.ty.'
'I must not say,' she answered. 'That is my secret. Do not seek to penetrate it. Who knows what horrors you might discover if you probed too far?' She laughed, but she laughed alone. The Prince remained pensive--as it were brooding.
'I never hoped to see you again,' he said.
'Why not?'
'One never sees again those whom one wishes to see.'
'As for me, I was perfectly convinced that we should meet again.'
'Why?'
'Because I always get what I want.'
'Then you wanted to see me again?'
'Certainly. You interested me extremely. I have never met another man who could talk so well about sculpture as the Count Steenbock.'
'Do you really always get what you want, Miss Racksole?'
'Of course.'
'That is because your father is so rich, I suppose?'