very, very pretty.
“Intellects are so very common nowadays that 'most anything will arouse them. Quentin says his man Turk has a brain, and if Turk has a brain I don't see how the rest of us can escape. I'd like to be a porpoise.”
“What an ambition! Why not a whale or a shark?”
“If I were a shark you'd be afraid of me, and if I were a whale I could not begin to get into your heart.”
“That's the best thing you've said since you were seasick,” she said, sweetly.
“I'm glad you didn't hear what I said when I was seasick.”
“Oh! I've heard brother Bob say things,” loftily.
“But nobody can say things quite so impressively as an American.”
“Pooh! You boasting Americans think you can do everything better than others. Now you claim that you can swear better. I won't listen to you,” and off she went toward the companionway. Dickey looked mildly surprised, but did not follow. Instead, he joined Lady Saxondale and Quentin in a stroll.
Four days later they were comfortably established with Saxondale in London. That night Quentin met, for the first time, the reigning society sensation, Prince Ugo Ravorelli, and his countrymen, Count Sallaconi and the Duke of Laselli. All London had gone mad over the prince.
There was something oddly familiar in the face and voice of the Italian. Quentin sat with him for an hour, listening with puzzled ears to the conversation that went on between him and Saxondale. On several occasions he detected a curious, searching look in the Italian's dark eyes, and was convinced that the prince also had the impression that they had met before. At last Quentin, unable to curb his curiosity, expressed his doubt. Ravorelli's gaze was penetrating as he replied, but it was perfectly frank.
“I have the feeling that your face is not strange to me, yet I cannot recall when or where I have seen you. Have you been in Paris of late?” he asked, his English almost perfect. It seemed to Quentin that there was a look of relief in his dark eyes, and there was a trace of
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