It was done so quickly, Tamara was already packed into the troika, and
the outside steeds were prancing in their desire to be off.

"The horses won't stand," the Prince said, and he jumped in beside her
and gave the order to go. Thus Tamara found herself alone with him
flying over the snow under the stars.

There was a delicious feeling of excitement in her veins. They neither
of them spoke for a while, but the Prince drew nearer and yet nearer,
and presently his arm slipped round her, and he folded her close.

"Doushka," he whispered. "I hate the Englishman--and life is so short.
Let us taste it while we may," and then he bent and kissed her lips!

Tamara struggled against the intense intoxicating emotion she was
experiencing. What frightful tide was this which had swept into her
well-ordered life! She vainly put up her arms and tried to push him
away, but with each sign of revolt he held her the tighter.

"Darling," he said softly in her ear. "My little white soul. Do not
fight, it is perfectly useless, because I _will_ do what I wish.
See, I will be gentle and just caress you, if you do not madden me by
trying to resist!"

Then he gathered her right into his arms, and again bent and most
tenderly kissed her. All power of movement seemed to desert Tamara. She
only knew that she was wildly happy, that this was heaven, and she
would wish it never to end.

She ceased struggling and closed her eyes, then he whispered all sorts