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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Prince of Graustark"

She drew back in her chair and the light of
raillery died in her eyes.
"What an imperial sound it has!"
"And why not? The R stands for Rex."
"Ah, that accounts for the King's English!"
"Certainly," he grinned. "The king can do no wrong, don't you see?"
"Your servant who was here speaks nothing but the King's English, I
perceive. Perhaps that accounts for a great deal."
"Hobbs? I mean to say,'Obbs? I confess that he has taught me many
tricks of the tongue. He is one of the crown jewels."
Suddenly, and without reason, she appeared to be bored. As a matter
of fact, she hid an incipient yawn behind her small gloved hand.
"I think I shall go to my room. Will you kindly unwrap me, Mr.
Schmidt?"
He promptly obeyed, and then assisted her to her feet, steadying her
against the roll of the vessel.
"I shall pray for continuous rough weather," he announced, with as
gallant a bow as could be made under the circumstances.
"Thank you," she said, and he was pleased to take it that she was not
thanking him for a physical service.


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