Lost trumpet

THE LOST TRUMPET
83
bered. And then we met in that room at Shepherd’s
while we waited for Gault, and you told me you
were Gault’s mistress.”
“And because of that ?”
“Do you think that would matter if I had still
the faith to put my dreams to the test of reality—
and come to you and ask for their fulfilment ? You
are more dear and adorable than ever you were—
but, oh. I’ve grown old ! Twelve years. Princess.
Thirteen now. And I have seen so much in those
thirteen years. Beauty hunted and dreamt of and
followed ; achieved at last. And then—satiety or
smirching. ... So I may sit and love you here, or
when you are nowhere to be seen or heard, and you
are mine as never you’d be if I came round this
table and held you in my arms.”
She laughed, playing with a little pyramid of
brown bread-crumbs upon her plate. “ ‘The
Apologia of Colonel Saloney.’ ” Then raised her
head and looked at me again. “And me, Anton ?
Suppose that I do not believe a dream can be
smirched because it is realized ? Supposing I believe
this creed of yours is a coward’s creed ?”
“Even with that supposition,” I said, and halted
and stammered and then some anger came on me.
“Pelagueya, you have played with life all your life,
and it has given you prizes easily and readily. Me
you can forgo without heart-break. Queen Cophetua
and the Beggar-Man ! Do you think I would live on
Gault’s money ?”
“That is vile, Anton Kyrilovitch !”