"You have not the right to ask me such a question," she answered
coldly.
"Not the right! Not the right!" he repeated. "Who else has, then?
Haven't I watched you grow from a beautiful, capricious child into the
woman you are? Haven't I taught you, played with you, done your bidding
blindly ever since you came into your kingdom? Haven't I felt the pain
and the joy of you in my heart? Who else has a better right, then?
Duncombe, who came here, a stranger to you--or is it one of your new
friends?"
She came close to him, and laid her hand upon his shoulder.
"Don't be foolish, Andrew!" she said softly.
His whole expression changed. The bitterness left his tone.
"Ah, Phyllis!" he said. "That is more like yourself."
"And I want you," she said, "to be like your old self. You have always
been my best friend, Andrew. I hope you will always be that."
He tried to look into her face. It seemed to him that there was a little
unnecessary emphasis in her words.
"I am not a child now, you know," she continued. "I am quite old enough
to take care of myself. You must believe that, Andrew. You must go away,
and not worry about me.
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