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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"


"Or perhaps you have been to Vienna."
"Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers."
"That is true." Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman
again. She's guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has
mistaken me for some one she does not know, if that is possible."
He was somewhat in a haze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes.
However, let us talk of a more interesting subject; for instance,
yourself. You, too, love adventure, that is, if I interpret the
veil rightly."
"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind
this love of adventure which you possess, there is an important
mission."
"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me." Aloud, "Yes, I
came here to witness the comic opera."
"The comic opera? I do not understand?"
"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and
the kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the
part."
"The prima donna!" in a muffled voice. "Whom do you mean?"
"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'"
And he whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
"Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!" a flash from the half-
hidden eyes.


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