"Aunt Fanny is never ill. Some day I shall tell you more of Uncle
Sam. It will interest you."
"Another question, if it please your highness. Do you expect to return
to America soon?"
This was the unexpected, but she met it with admirable composure.
"It depends upon the time when Prince Dantan resumes the throne in
Dawsbergen," she said.
"And that day may never come," said he, such mocking regret in his voice
that she looked upon him with newer interest.
"Why, I really believe you want to go to America," she cried.
The eyes of Baldos had been furtively drawn to the curtain more than
once during the last few minutes. An occasional movement of the long
oriental hangings attracted his attention. It dawned upon him that the
little play was being overheard, whether by spies or conspirators he
knew not. Resentment sprang up in his breast and gave birth to a daring
that was as spectacular as it was confounding. With long, noiseless
strides, he reached the door before Beverly could interpose. She half
started from her chair, her eyes wide with dismay, her lips parted, but
his hand was already clutching the curtain. He drew it aside
relentlessly.
Two startled women stood exposed to view, smiles dying on their amazed
faces. Their backs were against the closed door and two hands clutching
handkerchiefs dropped from a most significant altitude.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151