“What a confession to make! I always imagine them as sort of things like--like the mirror Forsyth gave you--very clear and sharp.” “That shows, Harilek, that you are still far from being grown up, or you would know that sometimes a woman’s thoughts are the most tangled things in the world, and most tangled of all to their owner.” “Are they twisted up just now, then?” “I’m not quite sure. Sometimes I think they are quite straightforward, and then, just as everything seems perfectly clear, I come up against the most awful bundle of knots you ever saw in your life.” “You want a magician like Paulos to untwist them for you.” “Yes, that would be very nice--if he could. But I think Paulos is not the kind of magician that would unravel knots like these.” “I wonder what sort of a magician is wanted. Perhaps the fairy prince kind”--and I looked across the table to where Andros was making a three-cornered conversation with Forsyth and Ziné. The doctor never failed to find himself next to Ziné at every meal, which was more than I could achieve with Aryenis. “Fairy princes never read thoughts,” flashed Aryenis. “They’re always far too stupid!” I wondered if she had been quarrelling with Andros that day. It was three days since she had asked me to ride with her, and now she suddenly said she had wanted me to go out that evening. “Are they always stupid? I thought they were supposed to be clever.” “No. They are perfect fools generally,” she retorted, looking very deliberately at the trio opposite. “That’s rather bad luck on the princesses, then.” “You don’t suppose they worry their heads about it, do you? There are other people in the world besides fairy princes with dragon marks, or without them, for that matter,” said she loftily. “Still in the end of the story she generally marries the prince. That’s what I mean about being sorry. I wasn’t insinuating that the princesses worried their pretty heads about the princes--I was merely considering the dullness of being married to some one who was a perfect fool.” “They wouldn’t marry them. There’s always the swineherd or some one sensible who can read thoughts in the story.” This very disdainfully. I felt crushed. “Then I shall go and be a swineherd.” “What for?” “Why, so that the princess will think I’m sensible and able to read thoughts.” “And then what do you think she will do?” “Marry me, I hope. Isn’t that what you said she would do?” “Well, come and tell me when the play starts. I should like to see you posing as a swineherd and pretending you could read thoughts. I don’t believe you could read any one’s, certainly not a princess’s.” “I’d have a good try if I got a chance.” “If _I_ were a prince disguised as a swineherd, I’d _make_ a chance,” said Aryenis decisively. “That is just what I intend to do--Shahzadi. I’m going to borrow a magic cap and a wand from Paulos, and start in on the thought-reading trade.”