I can't go behind my publicly
avowed principles."
The young fellow stretched his long body in a sort of luxurious
defiance, and eyed his companions somewhat combatively.
"Sounds very well," growled the Count, with scant reverence for
royalty, being a privileged person.
"Now, Dank here can marry any one he likes--if she'll have him--and
he is only a lieutenant of the guard. Why should I,--prince royal and
master of all he surveys, so to speak,--why should I be denied a
privilege enjoyed by every good-looking soldier who carries a sword
in my army--_my_ army, do you understand? I leave it to you, Dank, is
it fair? Who are you that you should presume to think of a happy
marriage while I, your Prince, am obliged to twiddle my thumbs and say
'all right, bring any old thing along and I'll marry her'? Who are
you, Dank, that's what I'd like to know."
His humour was so high-handed that the two soldiers laughed and Dank
ruefully admitted that he was a lucky dog.
"You shall not marry into the Blithers family, my lad, if we can help
it," said the Count, pulling at his moustaches.
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