“That is how I shall always remember you – my beloved.”
He had promised to keep her as a sacred, cherished memory and perhaps he had. If so, she could not bear to ruin that memory now.
He did not show any sign of recognition and she guessed that the mask covered enough of her face to protect her.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Iris.”
“Don’t you have another name?”
She shook her head.
“Why are you wearing a mask? Ah, I know. You must be one of the entertainers. Bertie always calls them after flowers. I knew there must be some reason why I had never seen you before?”
“Perhaps you have,” she mused. It was a reckless thing to say, but she could not resist venturing, just a little.
“No, I should know you at once. The other girls may call themselves beauties, but you really are one.”
