"
* * * * * * *
When they had gone, he went at once to Marie, and taking her hand,
kissed it tenderly. "My darling, this has been very trying for you," he
said. "You are not strong. Now it is my wish that you go to your room
and lie down. Soon I will come to you, but first I must talk for a
little while with Miss Grant."
Until an hour ago he had called her Mary.
With an arm round her waist, Angelo lifted Marie from the hammock, and
began to lead her toward the door, but she resisted feebly. "Angelo, I
can't go!" she stammered. "I can't leave Mary with you--like this. I
must stay. I----"
"Dear one, I wish you to go," Angelo insisted gently. "It is right for
you to go. Trust me to be neither cruel nor unkind to Miss Grant."
"But----"
"There is no 'but.'" Angelo had her at the door; and resigning herself,
with one backward look at Mary imploring pardon and mercy, the Princess
went out.
Mary saw, though she scarcely troubled to read the look. She pitied
Marie, but pitied her as a coward. The girl meant to be loyal, yet
somehow, in the end, to save her own happiness. But she could not plan
for the future. She felt dazed, broken, as if she had been on the rack
and was now to be tortured again.
XXXIII
In a moment Angelo had softly closed the glass door after Marie, and had
come back. He stood before Mary, looking down at her. At first she did
not raise her eyes, but his drew hers to them.
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