I suppose Frederick saw my embarrassment for
he smiled broadly.
"Come, Armand," he said; "pull up that chair. I suppose we may not
smoke here," he added; "though I think I detect the faint suggestion of
a miserable cigarette," and he looked at the Princess.
Dehra took a tiny jeweled case from somewhere about her gown and
offered it to the King.
"Will Your Majesty try a Nestor?" she said.
Frederick shook his head in repugnance.
"His Majesty, most certainly, will not," he said.
"But His Majesty's daughter will--with his permission."
Frederick laughed. "Or, without it, if need be," he said. "She is a
very headstrong young woman, Armand," he observed to me.
"So His Highness has already done himself the honor to tell me," said
she airily.
"Good!" said the King. "I admire his pluck."
Dehra blew a cloud of smoke at me.
"So do I," she answered.
Then she went over and kissed the King.
"Be nice to Armand," she whispered (but loud enough, for me to hear)
and left the room, flinging me a farewell from her finger tips, as I
held back the portiere.
And Frederick continued to smile, and my courage grew proportionately.
I came straight to the point.
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