Her head fell back into the bend of his elbow, her willing lips gave him their sweetness, her arm was clasped about his neck, and she had forgotten all save love and the man she loved.
George said nothing, so after a little time, Frances continued: "Tell me that you know I am not the creature evil-minded persons pretend to believe I am.

I might have been a duchess, with grand estates, by gift from the king, but I am not, nor ever shall be.

I loathe him, and so great is my sense of contamination that when he touches my hand in dancing, I almost feel that it is a thing of evil." "And you, whom I hear the king would marry, who, I am told, might pick and choose a husband from among the richest and noblest of the land, for whom it is said the Duke of Tyrconnel is longing, come here to this hole and throw yourself away on me, an outcast; one who makes his daily bread by labor at a printing-press, one on whose life the king has set a price?
You come here to give yourself to me!" cried George, almost stunned by surprise and joy.
He held her close to him and kissed her lips, not to his content, for that would have been impossible, but till he checked himself to hear her answer.

But she did not speak, and after a little time he led her, groping his way in the dark, to a box standing against the wall, where they sat down.

She clasped his hand, but did not answer his question.
Supposing that her silence was without cause, and wishing an answer in words, George continued:-- "It is difficult to believe that you, who went to court to make your fortune, should refuse it when it is in your grasp and should give yourself to me." "No, no," she answered, withdrawing her hand from his clasp and covering her face.