“Thank you, Jimmy,” said Anthony, “you’re a true friend. No, it’s much worse than that. I’ve deceived you as to my real name.”
“Is it very dreadful?” said Virginia, with interest. “It isn’t something silly like Pobbles, is it? Fancy being called Mrs. Pobbles.”
“You are always thinking the worst of me.”
“I admit that I did once think you were King Victor, but only for about a minute and a half.”
“By the way, Jimmy, I’ve got a job for you—gold prospecting in the rocky fastnesses of Herzoslovakia.”
“Is there gold there?” asked Jimmy eagerly.
“Sure to be,” said Anthony. “It’s a wonderful country.”
“So you’re taking my advice and going there?”
“Yes,” said Anthony. “Your advice was worth more than you knew. Now for the confession. I wasn’t changed at nurse, or anything romantic like that, but nevertheless I am really Prince Nicholas Obolovitch of Herzoslovakia.”
“Oh, Anthony,” cried Virginia. “How perfectly screaming! And I have married you! What are we going to do about it?”