"Certainly you are afraid of me." "I confess I am," he said.

"I can not remember all I said to you." Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes.

"Poor dog! Not that they hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes.

"See, Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love.

Poor dog! My playmate and my friend.