"Too late, too late," she grieved. "O my chieftain that was,
and whom I thought dead, had you but returned one little hour
before--but now it is too late, too late."
"What do you mean, Dejah Thoris?" I cried. "That you would not have
promised yourself to the Zodangan prince had you known that I
lived?"
"Think you, John Carter, that I would give my heart to you yesterday
and today to another? I thought that it lay buried with your ashes
in the pits of Warhoon, and so today I have promised my body to
another to save my people from the curse of a victorious Zodangan
army."
"But I am not dead, my princess. I have come to claim you, and all
Zodanga cannot prevent it."
"It is too late, John Carter, my promise is given, and on Barsoom
that is final. The ceremonies which follow later are but
meaningless formalities. They make the fact of marriage no more
certain than does the funeral cortege of a jeddak again place the
seal of death upon him. I am as good as married, John Carter.
No longer may you call me your princess. No longer are you my
chieftain."
"I know but little of your customs here upon Barsoom, Dejah Thoris,
but I do know that I love you, and if you meant the last words you
spoke to me that day as the hordes of Warhoon were charging down
upon us, no other man shall ever claim you as his bride.
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