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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"


"It will not interest Your Highness," said I.
"Tell me what she said; I command it!" And now I was sure that there
was a falter in her voice.
"She said--she said that she loved me."
"Continue."
"And that, as she was a Princess and--and honor bound, it could never
be." I had to say it.
"That is it; that is it. It could never be. Gretchen is no more. The
Princess who, you say, came to you in a dream was then but a woman--"
"Aye, and such a woman!" I interrupted. "As God hears me, I would give
ten years of my life to hold her again in my arms, to kiss her lips, to
hear her say that she loved me. But, pardon me, what were you going to
say?"
"Your dream Princess was but a woman--ah, well; this is Tuesday;
Thursday at noon she will wed the Prince. It is written."
"The devil!" I let slip. I was at the start again.
"Sir, you do him injustice."
"Who?--the Prince?" savagely.
"No; the--the devil!" She had fully recovered, and I had no weapon
left.
"Gretchen, did you really ever love me?"
There was no answer.
"No; I do not believe you did. If you had loved me, what to you would
have been a King, a Prince, a principality? If you broke that promise
who would be wronged? Not the King, not the Prince.


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