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"But why?" he cried. "What new folly have these people got into their
heads?"
"
Do you know," she asked, "that to love me--is high treason?"
My dear," he cried; "but does it matter? What is their right--right
"
without a shadow of reason--and their treason and their loyalty to us?"
"You shall hear," she said, and told him of the things that had been
told to her.
"It was the queerest little man who came to me with a soft, beautifully
modulated voice, a softly moving little gentleman who sidled into the
room like a cat and put his pretty white hand up so, whenever he had
anything significant to say. He is bald, but not of course nakedly bald,
and his nose and face are chubby rosy little things, and his beard is
trimmed to a point in quite the loveliest way. He pretended to have
emotions several times and made his eyes shine. You know he is quite a
friend of the real royal family here, and he called me his dear young
lady and was perfectly sympathetic even from the beginning. 'My dear
young lady,' he said, 'you know--you mustn't,' several times, and
then, 'You owe a duty.'"
"
Where do they make such men?"
He likes it," she said.
"
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