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I forgot that you are a foreigner.
He gave that wonderful ball last week for the Prince of--of--Oh, some
insignificant little place over in Europe. There are such a lot of
queer little duchies and principalities, don't you know; it is quite
impossible to tell one from the other. They don't even appear on the
maps."
He took it with a perfectly straight face, though secretly annoyed.
"It was the talk of the town, that ball. It must have cost roodles of
money. Is that right?"
"Yes, but it doesn't sound right when you say it. Naturally one
doesn't say roodles in Vienna."
"We say noodles," said he. "I am very fond of them. But to resume; I
supposed every one in New York knew Miss Blithers. She's quite the
rage, I'm told."
"Indeed? I should think she might be, Mr. Schmidt, with all those
lovely millions behind her."
He smiled introspectively. "Yes; and I am told that, in spite of
them, she is the prettiest girl in New York."
She appeared to lose interest in the topic. "Oh, indeed?"
"But," he supplemented gracefully, "it isn't true.


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