'You and Mr Racksole have been extraordinarily kind to me,' said
Prince Aribert very quietly, after the two had sat some time in
silence.
'Why? How?' she asked unaffectedly. 'We are interested in this
affair ourselves, you know. It began at our hotel - you mustn't
forget that, Prince.'
'I don't,' he said. 'I forget nothing. But I cannot help feeling that I
have led you into a strange entanglement. Why should you and Mr
Racksole be here - you who are supposed to be on a holiday! -
hiding in a strange house in a foreign country, subject to all sorts
of annoyances and all sorts of risks, simply because I am anxious
to avoid scandal, to avoid any sort of talk, in connection with my
misguided nephew? It is nothing to you that the Hereditary Prince
of Posen should be liable to a public disgrace. What will it matter
to you if the throne of Posen becomes the laughing-stock of
Europe?'
'I really don't know, Prince,' Nella smiled roguishly. 'But we
Americans have, a habit of going right through with anything we
have begun.'
'Ah!' he said, 'who knows how this thing will end? All our trouble,
our anxieties, our watchfulness, may come to nothing. I tell you
that when I see Eugen lying there, and think that we cannot learn
his story until he recovers, I am ready to go mad. We might be
arranging things, making matters smooth, preparing for the future,
if only we knew - knew what he can tell us.
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