But where was the fun in fooling an utter outsider like R.
Schmidt? It doesn't hold together."
"Americans have an amazing notion of humour, I am reliably informed.
They appear to be able to see a joke under the most distressing
circumstances. I'll stake my head that she is Miss Blithers."
"I can't imagine anything more terrible," groaned Robin, lying down
flat again and staring at the ceiling.
"I shouldn't call her terrible," protested Dank, rather stiffly.
"I refer to the situation, Dank,--the mess, in other words. It
_is_ a mess, isn't it?"
"I suppose you'll see nothing more of her, your highness," remarked
Dank, a sly hope struggling in his breast.
"You'd better put it the other way. She'll see nothing more of me,"
lugubriously.
"I mean to say, sir, you can't go on with it, can you?"
"Go on with what?"
"The--er--you know," floundered Dank.
"If there is really anything to go on with, Dank, I'll go on with it,
believe me."
The lieutenant stared. "But if she _should_ be Miss Blithers, what
then?"
"It might simplify matters tremendously," said Robin, but not at all
confidently.
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