"When King Edward played bridge," said the general, "and his partner left it to him at the right moment, the King used to declare with great satisfaction, 'No trumps, and you're an M.V.O.!'"
"The idea that a word from the sovereign's lips or the contact of his person is sufficient to cure his subjects, is a very ancient and beautiful one," said the colonel. "Before he started distributing ribbons, the King used to cure scrofula. That excellent custom, however, came to an end with William of Orange, who used to say to the patient while he was operating, 'God give you better health and more sense!'"
"The King's taboo has also disappeared," said the doctor.
"I can assure you," said Aurelle, "that his taboo is still effective. On the platform before he arrived there were three A.P.M.'s bustling about and chasing away the few spectators. As the train
came into the station one of them ran up to me and said, 'Are you the interpreter on duty? Well, there's a seedy-looking chap over there, who seems up to no good. Go and tell him from me that if he doesn't clear out immediately I'll have him arrested.' I did so. 'Arrest me!' said the man. 'Why, I'm the special commissaire de police entrusted with the King's safety.'"
"Well, Messiou," inquired the general, "have you brought me back any new records from Paris for my gramophone?"
Aurelle unstrapped his kit and proceeded, not without some anxiety, to unpack "Le Prélude à l'Après-midi d'un Faune."
"I don't know whether you'll like it, sir; it's modern French music."
"I'm sure it's very fine, Messiou," said the general confidently. And in the interest of international courtesy he