The Cophetua legend never has been told from the
beggar-maid's point of view, and there must have been moments when, if
a woman of spirit, she resented that monarch's somewhat condescending
attitude, and felt that, secure in his wealth and magnificence, he had
taken her grateful acquiescence very much for granted.
This, she saw now, was what had prejudiced her against George Vince.
She had assumed that he was rich. He had conveyed the impression of
being rich. And she had been on the defensive against him accordingly.
Now, for the first time, she seemed to know him. A barrier had been
broken down. The royal robes had proved tinsel, and no longer disguised
the man she loved.
A touch on her arm aroused her. M. Gandinot was standing by her side.
Terms, apparently had been agreed upon and the interview concluded, for
in his hand was a silver cigarette-case.
'Dreaming, mademoiselle? I could not make you hear. The more I call to
you, the more you did not answer. It is necessary to enter this loan.'
He recited the details and Ruth entered them in her ledger. This done,
M. Gandinot, doffing his official self, sighed.
'It is a place of much sorrow, mademoiselle, this office. How he would
not take no for an answer, that young man, recently departed. A
fellow-countryman of yours, mademoiselle.
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