CHAPTER XV
FROM A HIGH PLACE
The passageway was long and dark and given to sudden curves and angles,penetrating, it seemed, the very bowels of the Raj Mahal. It endedunexpectedly in a low arch through which the two men passed into anopen courtyard, apparently given over entirely to stables. Despite thelateness of the hour it was tenanted by several wideawake syces,dancing attendance upon a pair of blooded stallions of the stud royal,who, saddled, bridled and hooded, pawed and champed impatiently in thecentre of the yard, making it echo with the ringing of iron on stoneand the jingling of their silver curb-chains.
Salig Singh paused, with a wave of his hand calling Amber's attentionto the superb brutes.
"Thou canst see, hazoor, that all is prepared!"
"For what?"
But Salig Singh merely smiled enigmatically, and shaking a patienthead, passed on.
A second arch gave upon a corridor which led upwards and presentlychanged into a steep flight of steps, of ancient stone worn smooth andgrooved with the traffic of generations of naked feet. At the top theyturned aside and passed through a deserted hanging garden, and then,through a heavy door which Salig Singh unlocked with a private key,into a vast, vacant room, with a lofty ceiling supported by huge,unwieldy pillars of stone, sculptured with all the loves and wars ofHindu mythology. At one end the fitful, eerie flare of a great bronzebrazier revealed the huge proportions of an ivory throne, gorgeous withgems and cloth of gold, standing upon a dais and flanked by twomotionless figures which at first sight Amber took to be pieces ofstatuary. But they quickened, saluting with a single movement and aflash of steel, as the Maharana drew nearer, and so proved themselvestroopers of the State, standing guard with naked swords.
"There is no need, perhaps, to tell thee, hazoor," Salig Singhmuttered, bending to Amber's ear, "that sitting upon this throne, inthis Hall of Audience, for generations thy forefathers ruled this land,making and administering its laws, meting out justice, honoured of allmen--and served, my lord, for generations by my forebears, the faithfulstewards of thy House; even as I would prove faithful...."
"Interesting," Amber interrupted brusquely, "if true. Is this what youwanted to show me?"
"Nay, hazoor, not this alone. Come."
The Rajput led him out of the hall by way of a small doorway behind thethrone, and after a little turning and twisting through tortuouspassages they began to ascend again, and so went on up, ever upwards,the flights of steps broken by other corridors, other apartments, othergalleries and gardens, until at length they emerged into a garden laidout in the very topmost court of all--the loftiest spot in allKuttarpur.
It was a very wonderful garden, a jungle of exotic plants and shrubsthreaded by narrow walks that led to secluded nooks and unsuspectedpleasaunces, and lighted by low-swung festoons of dim lamps,many-coloured. A banian grew curiously in its midst, and there alsothey found a great tank of crystal water with a bed of brilliantpebbles over which small golden gleaming fish flashed and loitered.Here, where the walls of acacia, orange, thuia and pepal shut out everybreath of wind, the air was dense with the cloying sweetness ofjasmine, musk and marigold....
"My lord," said the Maharana, pausing, "if thou wilt wait here for alittle, permitting me to excuse myself--?"
"All right," Amber told him tolerantly. "Run along."
Salig Singh quietly effaced himself, and the American watched him gowith an inward chuckle. "I presume I'll have to pay for my impudence inthe end," he thought; "but it's costing Salig Singh a good deal to holdhimself in." He was for the time being not ill-pleased with this phaseof his adventure; he had a notion that this must be a sort of veryprivate pleasure-ground of the rulers of Khandawar, and that very few,if any, white people had ever been permitted to inspect it. What theMaharana's next move would be he had not the least suspicion; but sincehe must be content and abide the developments as they came, he wasminded to amuse himself. He moved away from the cistern, idling down apath in a direction opposite that taken by Salig Singh.
An abrupt turn brought him to the outer wall, and he stopped to gaze,leaning upon the low marble balustrade.
From his feet the wall fell away sheer, precipitous, a hundred feet ormore, to another hanging garden like that which lay behind him. Fromthis there was another stupendous drop. On all sides the marble wallsspread over the hillsides, descending it in great strides broken byterraces, gardens, paved courts, all white and silver and deep violetshadow, with here and there a window glowing softly yellow or a web ofsaffron rays peeping through the intricacies of a carved stone lattice.Far below, on the one hand, the lake lay like a sheet of steel; on theother the city stretched, a huddle of flat roofs not unlike an armfulof child's building blocks. At that great height the effect was that ofpeering over the upper lip of an avalanche of masonry on the point oftumbling headlong down a mountainside to crush all beneath it.
In the hush there rose to Amber a muted confusion of sounds--theblended voices of the multitude that inhabited the hidden chambers ofthe palace: the pawing and shrill neighing of the stallions in thelower courtyard, a shivering clash of steel against steel, somewherethe tinkle of a stringed instrument and a soft voice singing, a man'saccents weighty with authority, the ripple of a woman's laugh--allrelieved against an undertone like a profound sigh, waning and waxing:the breathing of the Raj Mahal ...
Amber turned away to rejoin Salig Singh by the cistern. But the Rajputwas not there; and, presently, another path tempting him to unlawfulexploration, he yielded and sauntered aimlessly away. A sudden cornercloaked with foliage brought him to a little open space, a patch oflawn over which a canopy had been raised. Beneath this, a woman satalone. He halted, thunderstruck.
Simultaneously, with a soft swish of draperies, a clash of jewelledbracelets, dull and musical, and a flash of coruscating colour, thewoman stood before him, young, slender, graceful, garbed inindescribable splendour--and veiled.
For the space of three long breaths the Virginian hesitated,unspeakably amazed. Though she were veiled, it were deep dishonour fora woman of a Rajput's household to be seen by a stranger. It seemedinexplicable that Salig Singh should have wittingly left him in anyplace where he might encounter an inmate of the zenana. Yet theMaharana must have known.... Amber made an irresolute movement, as ifto go. But it was too late.
With a murmur, inaudible, and a swift, infinitely alluring gesture, thewoman swept the veil away from her face, and looked him squarely in theeyes. She moved toward him slowly, swaying, as graceful as a fawn, morebeautiful than any woman he had ever known. His breath caught in histhroat, for sheer wonder at this incomparable loveliness.
Her face was oval without a flaw, and pale as newly-minted gold, with aflush of red where the blood ran warm beneath the skin. Her hair wasblack as ebony and finer than the finest silk, rich and lustrous; herjet-black eyebrows formed a perfect arch. Her mouth was like apassion-flower, but small and sweet, with lips full and firm andscarlet. Her eyes were twin pools of darkness lighted with ardent innerfire. They held him speechless and motionless with the beauty of theirunuttered desire, and before he could collect his wits she had made himcaptive--had without warning cast herself upon her knees before him andimprisoned both his hands, burying her face in their palms. He felt herlips hot upon his flesh, and then--wonder of wonders!--tears from thosedivine eyes streaming through his fingers.
The shock of it brought him to his senses. Pitiful, dumfounded,horrified, he glared wildly about him, seeking some avenue of escape.There was no one watching: he thanked Heaven for that, while the coldsweat started out upon his forehead. But still at his feet the womanrocked, softly sobbing, her fair shoulders gently agitated, and stillshe defied his gentle efforts to free his hands, holding them in agrasp he might not break without hurting her. He found his tongueeventually.
"Don't!" he pleaded desperately. "My dear, you mustn't. For pity's sakedon't sob like that! What under the sun's the trouble? Don't,please!... Good Lord! what am I to do with this lovely lunatic?" Thenhe rem
embered that he had spoken in English and thoughtfully translatedthe gist of his remonstrances, with as little effect as if he hadspoken to the empty air.
Though in time the fiercest paroxysm of her passion passed and her sobsdiminished in violence, she clung heavily to him and made no resistancewhen he lifted her in his arms. The error was fatal; he had designed toget her on her feet and then stand away. But no sooner had he raisedher and succeeded in disengaging his hands, than soft round arms wereclasped tightly about his neck and her face--if possible, moreravishing in tears than when first he had seen it--pillowed on hisbreast. And for the first time she spoke coherently.
"_Aie_!" she wailed tremulously. "_Aie_! Now is the cup of my happinessfull to brimming, now that thou hast returned to me at last, O my lord!Well-nigh had I ceased to hope for thee, O Beloved; well-nigh had thisheart of mine grown cold within my bosom, that had no nourishment savehope, save hope! Day and night I have watched for thy coming for manyyears, praying that thou shouldst return to me ere this frailprettiness of mine, that made thee love me long ago, should wane andfade, so that thy heart should turn to other women, O my husband!"
"Husband! Great--Heavens! Look here, my dear, hadn't you better come toyour senses and let me go before--"
"Let thee go, _Lalji_, ere what? Ere any come to disturb us? Nay, butwho should come between husband and wife in the first hour of theirreunion after many years of separation? Is it not known--does not allKhandawar know how I have waited for thee, almost thy widow ere thywife, all this weary time?... Or is it that thy heart hath forgottenthy child-bride? Am I scorned, O my Lord--I, Naraini? Is there no lovein thy bosom to leap in response to the love of thee that is my life?"
She released him and whirled a pace or two away, draperies swirling,jewels scintillating cold fire in hopeless emulation of the radiance ofher tear-gemmed eyes.
"Naraini?" stammered Amber, recalling what he had heard of the woman."Naraini!"
"Aye, my lord, Naraini, thy wedded wife!" The rounded little chin wentup a trifle and her eyes gleamed angrily. "Am I no longer thy Naraini,then? Or wouldst thou deny that thou art Har Dyal, my king and mybeloved? Hast thou indeed forgotten the child that was given thee forwife when thy father reigned in Khandawar and thou wert but a boy--aboy of ten, the Maharaj Har Dyal? Hast thou forgotten the little maidthey brought thee from the north, _Lalji_--the maiden who had grown towomanhood ere thy return from thy travels to take up thy father'scrown?... _Aie_! Thou canst never forget, Beloved; though years and themultitude of faces have come between us as a veil, thou dostremember--even as thou didst remember when the message of the Bell cameto thee across the great black waters, and thou didst learn that thedays of thy exile were numbered, that the hour approached when againthou shouldst sit in the place of thy fathers and rule the world asonce they ruled it."
A denial stuck in Amber's throat. The words would not come, nor wouldthey, he believed, have served his purpose could he have commandedthem. If he had found no argument wherewith to persuade Salig Singh, hefound none wherewith to refute the claim of this golden-faced woman whorecognised him for her husband. He was wholly dismayed and aghast. Butwhile he lingered in indecision, staring in the woman's face, her lookof petulance was replaced by one of divine forgiveness and compassion.And she gave him no time to think or to avoid her; in a twinkling shehad thrown herself upon him again, was in his arms and crushing herlips upon his.
"Nay," she murmured, "but I did wrong thee, Beloved! Perchance," shetold him archly, "thou didst not think to see me so soon, or in thisgarden? Perchance surprise hath robbed thee of thy wits--and thy tongueas well, O wordless one? Or thou art overcome with joy, as I amovercome, and smitten dumb by it, as I am not? _Aho, Lalji!_ was ever awoman at loss for words to voice her happiness?" And nestling to himshe laughed quietly, with a note as tender and sweet as the cooing of awood-dove to its mate.
"Nay, but there is a mistake." He recovered the power of speechtardily, and would have put her from him; but she held tight to him. "Iam not thy husband, nor yet a Rajput. I come from America, the far landwhere thy husband died.... Nay, it doth pain me to hurt thee so, Ranee,but the mistake is not of my making, and it hath been carried too far.Thy husband died in my presence--"
"It is so, then!" she cut him short. And his arms were suddenly empty,to his huge relief. "Indeed they had warned me that thou wouldst tellthis story and deny me--why, I know not, unless it be that thou artunworthy of thy lineage, a coward and a weakling!" Her small footstamped angrily and on every limb of her round body bracelets andanklets clashed and shimmered. "And so thou hast returned only toforswear me and thy kingdom, O thou of little spirit!" The scarlet lipscurled and the eyes grew cold and hard with contempt. "If that be so,tell me, why hast thou returned at all? To die? For that thou mustsurely come to, if it be in thy mind to defy the behests of the Voice,thou king without a kingdom!... Why, then, art thou here, rather thanrunning to hide in some far place, thinking to escape with thyworthless life--worthless even to thee, who art too craven to make aman's use of it--from the Vengeance of the Body?... Dost think I am tobe tricked and hoodwinked--I, in whose heart thine image hath beenenshrined these many weary years?"
"I neither think, nor know, nor greatly care, Ranee," Amber interposedwearily. "Doubtless I deserve thine anger and thy scorn, since I am nothe who thou wouldst have me be. If death must be my portion for thisoffence, for that I resemble Har Dyal Rutton ... then it is writtenthat I am to die. My business here in Khandawar hath concern neitherwith thee, nor with the State, not yet with the Gateway of Swords--ofthe very name of which I am weary.... Now," and his mouth settled inlines of unmistakable resolve, "I will go; nor do I think that there beany here to stop me."
He wheeled about, prepared to fight his way out of the palace, if needbe. Indeed, it was in his mind that a death there were as easy as onean hour after sunrise; for he had little doubt but that he was to dieif he remained obdurate, and the hospitality of the Rajput would ceaseto protect him the moment he set foot upon the marble bund of hisbungalow.
But the woman sprang after him and caught his arm. "Of thy pity," shebegged breathlessly, "hold for a space until I have taken thought....Thou knowest that if what thou hast told me be the truth, then am Iwidow before my time--widowed and doomed!"
"Doomed?"
"Aye!" And there was real terror in her eyes and voice. "Doomed to_sati_. For, since I am a widow--since thou dost maintain thou art notmy husband--then my face hath been looked upon by a man not of mine ownpeople, and I am dishonoured. Fire alone can cleanse me of thatdefilement--the pyre and the death by flame!"
"Good God! you don't mean that! Surely that custom has perished!"
"Thou shouldst know that it dieth not. What to us women in whose bodiesruns the blood of royalty, is an edict of your English Government?What, the Sirkar itself to us in Khandawar?" She laughed bitterly. "Iam a Rohilla, a daughter of kings: my dishonour may be purged only byflame. _Arre_! that I should live to meet with such fate--I, Naraini,to perish in the flower of my beauty.... For I am beautiful, am I not?"She dropped the veil which instinctively she had caught across herface, and met his gaze with childish coquetry, torn though she seemedto be by fear and disappointment.
"Thou art assuredly most beautiful, Ranee," Amber told her, with abreak in his voice, very compassionate. And he spoke simple truth. "Ofthy kind there is none more lovely in the world ..."
"There was tenderness then in your tone, my lord!" she caught him upquickly. "Is there no mercy in thy heart for me?... Who is this womanacross the seas who hath won thy love?... Aye, even that I know--thatthou dost love this fair daughter of the English. Didst thou not losethe picture of her that was taken with the magic-box of the sahibs?...Is it for her sake that thou dost deny me, O my husband? Is she morefair than I, are her lips more sweet?"
"I am not thy husband," he declared vehemently, appalled by herreversion to that delusion. "Till this hour I have never seen thee; noris the sahiba of any concern to thee. Let me go, please."
&n
bsp; But she had him fast and he could not have shaken her off but withviolence. He had been a strong man indeed who had not been melted totenderness by her beauty and her distress. She lifted her glorious faceto him, pleading, insistent, and played upon him with her voice ofgold. "Yet a moment gone thou didst tell me I was greatly gifted withbeauty. Have I changed in thine eyes, O my king? Canst thou look uponthis poor beauty and hear me tell thee of my love--and indeed I amaltogether thine, _Lalji_!--and harden thy heart against me?... Whatthough it be as thou hast said? What though thou art of a truth not ofthe house of Rutton, nor yet a Rajput? Let us say that this is so,however hard it be to credit: even so, am _I_ not reward enough for thyrenunciation?"
"I know not thy meaning, Ranee, I--"
"Come, then, and I will show thee, my king. Come thou with me.... Nay,why shouldst thou falter? There is naught for thee to fear--save me."She tugged at his hand and laughed low, in a voice that sang likesmitten glasses. "Come, Beloved!"
Unwillingly, he humoured her. This could not last long.... The womanhalf led, half dragged him to the northern boundary of the garden,where they entered a little turret builded out from the walls over anabyss fully three-hundred feet in depth. And here, standing upon theverge of the parapet, with naught but a foot high coping between herand the frightful fall, utterly fearless and unutterably lovely,Naraini flung out a bare, jewelled arm in an eloquent gesture.
"See, my king!" she cried, her voice vibrant, her eyes kindling as theymet his. "Look down upon thy kingdom. North, south, east, west--look!"she commanded. "Wherever thine eyes may turn, and farther than they cansee upon the clearest day, this land is all thine ... for the taking.Look and tell me thou hast strength to renounce it ... and me,Beloved!"
A little giddy with the consciousness of their perilous height, hisbreath coming harshly, he looked--first down to the lake that shonelike a silver dollar set in velvet, then up the misty distances of thewidening valley through which ran the stream that fed the lake, and outto the hills that closed it in, miles away, and then farther yet overthe silvered summits of the great, rough hills that rolled awayendlessly, like a sea frozen in its fury.
"There lies thy kingdom, O my king!" The bewitching voice cooedseduction at his shoulder. "There and ... here." She sought his handand placed it firmly upon her bosom, holding it there with gentlepressure until he felt the thumping of her heart and the warm fleshthat heaved beneath a shred of half-transparent lace.
Reddening and a little shaken, he snatched his hand away. And shelaughed chidingly.
"From the railway in the north to the railway in the south, all theland is Khandawar, Beloved: thine inheritance--thine for the taking ...even as I am thine, if thou wilt take me.... Look upon it, thy father'skingdom, then upon me, thy queen.... Yea!" she cried, throwing back herhead and meeting his gaze with eye languorous beneath their heavysilken lashes. "Yea, I am altogether thine, my king! Wilt thou cast measide, then, who am faint with love for thee?... Never hast thoudreamed of love such as the love that I bear for thee. How could it beotherwise, when thou hast passed thy days in the chill exile of theNorth? O my husband, turn not from me--"
He pulled himself together and stood away. "Madam," he said with anabsurdly formal bow, "I am not your husband."
She opened her arms with infinite allure. "It is so little that isasked of thee--only to ascend thy father's throne and be honoured ofall Bharuta, only to wield the sceptre that is thine by right, only toreign an undisputed king in two kingdoms--Khandawar and thy Naraini'sheart!"
"I am very sorry," he returned with the same preciseness. "It is quiteimpossible. Besides, it seems that you leave the Sirkar altogether outof your calculations. It may not have occurred to you that the SupremeGovernment of India may have something to say about the contemplatedchange."
He saw her bite her lips with chagrin, and the look she flashed to hisface was anything but kind and tender. "_Arre!_" she laughedderisively. "And of what account is this frail, tottering Sirkar's willbesides the Will of the Body? Of what avail its dicta against therulings of the Bell? Thou knowest--"
"Pardon, I know nothing. I have told thee, Ranee, that I am not HarDyal Rutton."
She was mistress of a thousand artifices. Brought to a standstill onthe one line of attack, she diverged to another without the quiver ofan eyelash to betray her discomfiture.
"Yea, thou hast told me," she purred. "But I, Naraini, _I_ know what Iknow. Thou dost deny thyself even as thou dost deny me, but ... artthou willing to be put to the proof, my king?"
"If you've any means of proving my identity, I would thank you formaking use of it, Ranee."
"There is the test of the Token, _Lalji_."
"I am not aware of it."
"The test of the Token--the ring that was brought to thee, the signetof thy House. Surely thou hast it with thee?"
Since that night in Calcutta Amber had resumed his habit of carryingthe Token in the chamois bag. Now, on the reflection that it had beengiven him for a special purpose, which had been frustrated by the deathof Dhola Baksh, so that he had no further use for it, he decidedagainst the counsels of prudence. "What's the odds," he asked himself,"if I do lose it? I don't want the damn' thing--it's brought me nothingbut trouble, thus far." And he thrust a hand within his shirt andbrought forth the emerald. "Here it is," he told the woman cheerfully."Now this test?" "Place it upon thy finger--so, even upon thy littlefinger, as was thy father's wont with it. Now lift up thine arm, so,and turn the stone to the west, toward Kathiapur."
Without comprehension he yielded to this whim, folding up his right armand turning the emerald to the quarter indicated by Naraini.
The hour had drawn close upon dawn. A cold air breathed down the valleyand was chill to them in that lofty eyrie. The moon, dipping towardsthe rim of the world, was poised, a globe of dull silver, upon theridge of a far, dark hill. As they watched it dropped out of sight andeverything was suddenly very bleak and black.
And a curious thing happened.
Naraini cried out sharply--"_Aho_!"--as if unable to contain herexcitement.
Somewhere in the palace behind them a great gong boomed like thunder.
A pause ensued, disturbed only by the fluttering of the woman's breath:for the space of thirty pulse-beats nothing happened. Then Naraini'sfingers closed like bands of steel about Amber's left wrist.
"See!" she cried in a voice of awe, while the bracelets shivered andclashed upon her outstretched arm, "The Eye, my king, the Eye!"
Amber shut his teeth upon an exclamation of amaze. For just above thefar, dark mountain ridge, uncannily brilliant in the void of the pale,moonlit firmament, a light had blazed out; a vivid emerald light,winking and stabbing the darkness with shafts of seemingly supernaturalradiance.
"And thy ring, lord--look! The Token!"
The great emerald seemed to have caught and to be answering the lightNaraini called the Eye; in the stone's depths an infernal fire leapedand died and leaped again, now luridly blazing, now fitfully a-quiveras though about to vanish, again strong and steady: even as the lightof the strange emerald star above the mountains ebbed and flowedthrough the night.
Naraini shuddered and cried out guardedly for very fear. "By Indur, itis even as the Voice foretold! Nay, Heaven-born"--she caught his sleeveand forcibly pulled down his hand--"tempt not the Unseen further. Andput away this Token, lest a more terrible thing befall us. There bemysteries that even we of the initiate may not comprehend, my lord. Itis not well to meddle with the unknown."
The ring was off his finger now and the woman was cramming it into hiscoat-pocket with tremulous hands. And where the Eye had shone, the skywas blank. They stood in darkness, Amber mute with perplexity, Narainiclinging to his arm and shaking like a reed in the wind.
"Now am I frightened, lord of my heart! Lead me back to the garden, forI am but a woman and afraid. Who am I, Naraini, to see the Eye? What amI, a weak woman, to trespass upon the Mysteries? I am very much afraid.Do thou take me hence and comfort me, my king!" She drew
his arm abouther waist, firm, round, and slender, and held it so, her body yieldingsubtly to his, her head drooping wearily upon his shoulder.
They moved slowly from the turret and back along the lighted walks ofthe garden, the woman apparently content, Amber preoccupied--to tellthe truth, more troubled than he would have been willing to confess. Asfor the intimacy of their attitude, he was temporarily careless of it;it meant less to him than the woman guessed. It seems likely that sheinferred a conquest from his indifference, for when they had come backto the tank of the gold-fish beneath the banian she slipped from hisembrace and confronted him with a face afire with elation.
"See now how thou art altogether controverted, _Lalji!_" she criedjoyfully. "No longer canst thou persist that thou art other than thytrue self, the lord of Naraini's heart, the king returned to hiskingdom.... For who would dare give the lie to the Eye?... Indeed," shecontinued with a low, sighing laugh, "I myself had begun to doubt, myfaith borne down and overcome by thy repeated denials; but now I knowthee. Did not the Bell foretell that the Eye should be seen of men onlywhen Har Dyal Rutton had returned to his kingdom, and then only when hewore the Token? Even as it was said, so has it been.... And now artthou prepared to go?"
"Whither?"
"To Kathiawar--even to the threshold of the Gateway?... There is yettime, before the dawn, and it were wise to go quickly, my king; but forone night more is the Gateway open to receive thee. Thou didst see thesaddled stallions in the courtyard? They wait there for thee, to bearthee to Kathiawar.... Nay, it were better that thou shouldst wait,mayhap, for the hours be few before the rising of the sun. Go then tothy rest, heart of my heart, since thou must leave me; and this nightwe shall ride, thou and I, together to the Gateway."
"So be it," he assented, with a grave inclination of his head.Convinced of the thanklessness of any further attempt to convince thewoman against her will, he gave it up, and was grateful for the respitepromised him. In twelve or eighteen hours he might accomplishmuch--with the aid of Labertouche. At worst he would find some means tocommunicate with the Farrells and then seek safety for himself inflight or hiding until what he had come to term "that damnedGateway-thing" should be closed and he be free to resume his strangewooing. Some way, somehow, he could contrive to extricate himself andhis beloved.
Therefore he told the woman: "Be it so, O Queen! Now, I go."
"And leave me," she pouted prettily, "with no word but that, my king?Am I not worth a caress--not even when I beg for it?"
He smiled down at her, tolerant and amused, and impulsively caught herto him. "The point's well taken," he said. "Decidedly you're worth it,Naraini. And if you were not, the show was!"
And he kissed and left her, all in a breath.