I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was
one of polite curiosity.
"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe,
of the American Legation in Vienna."
She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the
Colonel's total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the
two men plunged into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning,
but that was all.
"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under
his mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced
the students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were
every day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The
students were like so many sheep."
The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of
something which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like
the manner in which the two men eyed each other. Her glance
passed from the stalwart soldier to the slim, athletic form of
the civilian.
Conversation drifted aimlessly.
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