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"Of course, monsieur--so does everyone--don't you?"
"No," said I. "I don't."
She laughed. "You mean you don't want to think so,----madame is very beautiful--_n'est ce pas_?"
"Do you know her?" I asked evasively.
"No, monsieur; do you?"
"I have met her."
"Oh! Oh!" she exclaimed. Then she looked at me quickly. "I thought she received no visitors."
I shrugged my shoulders. "The lady does not interest me," I said; "let us talk of something else."
"Of the American Archduke, then," she suggested.
"Why not of yourself?" I urged.
"I am only a Masque--the American may be a King."
"Not likely," I scoffed.
"Are you for Lotzen?" she demanded.
"Diplomats are neutral," said I; "but, _entre nous_, I have become rather interested in the American."
"So have I," said she. "He is very handsome."
"Thank you," I said, involuntarily.
She stopped and looked at me. I was glad, indeed, for the mask.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Would you mind repeating that last remark?" she said.
I pretended surprise.
"You said the American was very handsome and I said 'thank you.' I mean I don't agree with you."
"Oh!" she answered.
But I would have been better satisfied if I could have seen her face.
"I wouldn't let the Valerians know it," she went on. "He is the perfect double of the great national Hero."
"So I've heard."
"And it's no small item in his popularity."
"I didn't know he was popular," I said.--This was getting interesting.
"Really, monsieur, your ignorance of the very matters, which you should know, would suggest you are an American diplomat."
"Your Ladyship is severe," I said.
"I meant to be--though there are exceptions; the present Amba.s.sador is one. He ranks with the best of his fellows."
"Now, that," said I, "I have heard."
She laughed. "Come, monsieur, lay aside this affected ignorance and gossip a bit. Is the American to marry the Princess Royal?"
"I thought you were insisting, a moment since, that he had a wife," I observed.
"Oh, that's of no consequence. It will be very easy to divorce her."
Here, doubtless, was the popular view of this matter; and it gave me the shudders.
Then the swing of a waltz came from the house.
"Shall we dance?" I said.
She smiled. "Monsieur is bored--let us wait for my friends."
I protested; but she was firm. And, so, when the others came up, Moore and I made our adieux.
When we were out of hearing, Moore handed me a bit of paper.
"This just reached me,'" he said.
It was from the Secret Police and read:
"S. is at Vierle Masque. She wears a gypsy dress of black and red. L.
is also at Masque--he and Count Bigler are dressed alike in white satin. L. came last and his presence is unknown to the Vierles for he avoided unmasking by personating Bigler."
"So, they were the White Twins," I remarked.
"You knew them?"
"I knew only Lotzen."
"Hence your advice to our quick-tempered companion--who was he?"
"I couldn't make him out," said Moore; "but he knew the women and was their escort from the house."
"He seemed to be a bit sour about something."