“Who would have given you credit for such stupidity? To believe a woman so implicitly! But, after all, with your reputation, princess or beggar maid, it is all the same to you.” “You called her the Princess of Ellel,” he answered harshly. “There is no Princess of Ellel--Ellel in Fairy Sky belongs to me.” “Well, that’s what she calls herself. I’m sure I don’t know. If you object, bring a law-suit. It is stamped on her belongings--‘Marigold--Princess of Ellel.’ That would be evidence sufficient for any judge.” “And you have known this and never told me?” “I simply got to know yesterday. I was wandering through the Duke of Mendona’s grounds, valuing his effects from idle curiosity. Suddenly I came across our little beggar girl, all dressed up in silks, pearls round her neck, high up under the chin--curious fashion that, when a woman has a lovely neck”--and he looked out of the corners of his eyes at the haggard face of his companion--“so naturally I stopped to speak, and she explained the episode of Friar’s Court was nothing but a girlish prank. She didn’t call it a prank--her words were all picked from the choicest dictionary.” “I don’t believe it.” “Do you accuse her of using slang? No; please don’t look so devilishly angry, Barringcourt. I really don’t want to wear pearls round my neck, much as they might enhance my natural complexion. Moreover, my neck is rather tough and scraggy--the last thing on Lucifram for you to try your strength upon.” He saw by the rigid face that every idle word had hit. “Was--was she badly hurt?” “Well, women are very inconsistent. You wring their neck one day, and they don’t feel it; the next you touch them with your little finger, and they faint right off.” “What do you mean?” “Well, she fainted, didn’t she? That shows the little finger process.” “Oh! I was under the impression I wrung her neck.” But he wasn’t laughing, neither did he mean to imply that Marigold had not felt what he had done. St Armand alone perceived it, and he smiled tolerantly enough. “By the way,” he said suddenly, “you must have known her. Hasn’t she lived at your Palace in Fairy Sky all these years, and isn’t that exactly the place where you have been?” “You know I have not been there.” “Ah! I remember. Alphonso said your letter dropped from Heaven, but it was beastly sharply-worded to have come from such a place. You’ll give them a bad reputation up there. Now, when they wanted to take your one house, you should have offered them also the other. They’d have swallowed both without needing pepsin tablets, I can tell you.” “I’m going.” “So am I. Remember you’ve asked me to lunch, and too much Sunday doesn’t suit me. Alphonso’s like a third-rate ship biscuit. It’s nothing but ME--my office and my Church! I wonder the Serpent doesn’t swallow him. Too hard and dry, perhaps--not soft enough about the neck.”