"
"Thank you, Baldos, for telling me," she said softly. "You have made me
ashamed of myself."
"On the contrary, I fear that I have been indulging in mock
heroics. Truth and egotism--like a salad--require a certain amount of
dressing."
"Since you are Baldos, and not a fairy prince, I think you may instruct
the men to carry me back, being without the magic tapestry which could
transplant me in a whiff. Goodness, who's that?"
Within ten feet of the sedan chair and directly behind the tall guard
stood a small group of people. He and Beverly, engrossed in each other,
had not heard their approach. How long they had been silent spectators
of the little scene only the intruders knew. The startled, abashed eyes
of the girl in the chair were not long in distinguishing the newcomers.
A pace in front of the others stood the gaunt, shadowy form of Count
Marlanx.
Behind him were the Princess Yetive, the old prime minister, and Baron
Dangloss.
CHAPTER XIX
THE NIGHT FIRES
"Why, good evening. Is that you?" struggled somewhat hysterically
through Beverly's lips. Not since the dear old days of the stolen jam
and sugar-bits had she known the feelings of a culprit caught
red-handed. The light from the park lamps revealed a merry, accusing
smile on the face of Yetive, but the faces of the men were
serious. Marlanx was the picture of suppressed fury.
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