She allowed him to put his arms round her now, glad that the darkness hid the blush on her cheeks; thus she loved him, thus she had first learned to love him, ardent, oh, yes! but so gentle, so meek, yet so great and exalted in his selfless patriotism.
"'Tis not of death you should speak, sweet prince," she said, ineffably happy now that she felt him more subdued, more trusting and fond, "rather should you speak of life ... with me, your own Suzanne ... of happiness in the future, when you and I, hand in hand, will work together for that great cause you hold so dear ... the freedom and liberties of France."
"Ah, yes!" he sighed in utter dejection, "when that happy time comes ... but ..."
"You do not trust me?" she asked reproachfully.
"With all my heart, my Suzanne," he replied, "but you are so beautiful, so rich ... and other men ..."
"There are no other men for me," she retorted simply. "I love you."
"Be mine ... mine absolutely," he urged eagerly with passion just sufficiently subdued to make her pulses throb. "Be my wife ... my princess ... let me feel that no one could come between us...."
"But my guardian would never consent," she protested.
"Surely your love for me can dispense with Sir Marmaduke's consent...."
"A secret marriage?" she asked, terrified at this strange vista which his fiery imagination was conjuring up before her.
The coolness in his tone struck a sudden chill to her heart. She felt the clasp of his arms round her relax, she felt rather than saw that he withdrew markedly from her.
"Ah! forgive me! forgive me!" she murmured, stretching her little hands out to him in a pathetic and childlike appeal. "I have never deceived anyone in my life before.... How could I live a lie? ... married to you, yet seemingly a girl.... Whilst in three months...."
She paused in her eagerness, for he had jumped to his feet and was now standing before her, a rigid, statuesque figure, with head bent and arms hanging inert by his side.
"You do not love me, Suzanne," he said with an infinity of sadness, which went straight to her own loving heart, "else you would not dream of thus condemning me to three months of exquisite torture.... I have had my answer.... Farewell, my gracious lady ... not mine, alas! but another man's ... and may Heaven grant that he love you well ... not as I do, for that were impossible...."