And even now with her hand in his, and the knowledge that soon she
would be his Princess, there was no triumph or joy, only the sick sense
of humiliation she felt. Passion, and its result--necessity--not love,
had brought about this situation.
So she stood there in silence. It required the whole force of Gritzko's
will to prevent him from folding her shrinking pitiful figure in his
strong arms, and raining down kisses and love words upon her. But the
stubborn twist in his nature retained its hold. No, that glorious
moment should come with a blaze of sunlight when all was won, when he
had made her love him in spite of everything.
Meanwhile nothing but reserved homage, and a settling of details.
"You will let the marriage take place before Lent, won't you?" he said,
dropping her hand.
And Tamara answered dully.
"I will marry you as soon as you wish," and she turned and sat down.
He leant on the mantlepiece and looked at her. He understood perfectly
the reason which made her consent to any date--and he smiled with some
strange powerful emotion--and yet his eye had a whimsical gleam.
"You are afraid that something can happen--isn't it?" he said. "Well,
I shall be most pleased when that day comes."
But poor Tamara could not bear this--the crystalizing of her fears!
With a stifled cry, she buried her face in the cushions.
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