She began to tremble, and then to sob. “Oh, Carl, oh, thank God! You have really come back! Oh, my dear, I have been ready to die! I thought…I thought you were…”

“Ah, well, you see, I wasn’t. There, there. Now dry your eyes, my darling, and listen.” She blinked at me, dabbing at her eyelashes—God, she was a beauty, in her flimsy night-rail—they seemed to be wearing them very low in Strackenz that winter, and I was beginning to come all over of a heat, what with her nearness and the scent of her hair, and the troubled adoration in her lovely eyes.

“It is quite crushed, this—this plot,” says I. “No, hear me out—I shall explain everything in time, but for the moment you must trust me, and do precisely as I say. It is done—finished—safe, all but for a few details, which require my attention….”

“Details? What details?”

“There’s no time now. I must be away again.” She cried out at this. “It is only for a moment, darling—a few hours, and I shall be with you, and we’ll never be parted again—never.”

She started to weep again, clinging to me, refusing to let me go, protesting that I would be going into danger, and all the rest of it. I tried to comfort her, and then the baggage opened her mouth on mine, and pushed her hand between my thighs, murmuring to me to stay.

By gum, it agitated me; I wondered if I had time? No, by God, I daren’t—I had lost precious minutes already She was stroking away, and my head was swimming with her, but I just put lust second to common sense for once, and forced her gently away.

“You must stay here,” says I firmly. “With a strong guard on the palace and on your room itself. Oh, darling, believe me, it is vital! I would not go, but I must—and you must remember that you are a duchess, and the protector of your people—and, and all that. Now will you trust me, and believe me that I do this for the safety of Strackenz and my own darling?”

These royal wenches are made of stern stuff, of course; tell ’em it’s for their country’s sake and they become all proudly dutiful and think they’re Joan of Arc. I gave her some more patriotism mixed with loving slush, and at last she agreed to do what she was told. I swore I’d be back in an hour or two, and hinted that we would stay in bed for a week, and at this she flung herself on me again.

“Oh, my darling!” says she, wriggling against me. “How can I let you go?”