Slowly they turned together toward the house.
"I like your cavalryman, Pagratide," he said thoughtfully. His mind had
suddenly recurred to the scene in the foreigner's room, and he thought
he began to understand. "He is a man. He dares to challenge royal wrath
by venturing his love in the lists against his prince."
"I wish he had not come," she said slowly.
"But you don't love him?" he demanded with sudden unreasoning jealousy.
"I love--just, only, solely, you, Mr. Monopoly," she replied.
At the door they paused. There was complete silence save for a clock
striking two and the distant crowing of a cock. The pause belonged to
them--their moment of reprieve.
At last she said quietly: "But you are stupid not to guess it."
"Guess what?" he inquired.
"There is no Pagratide. Pagratide's real name is Karyl of Galavia."