“It’s just an excuse,” she said pettishly. “You don’t want to do anything. Why, you might become an ambassador!”
“I don’t think I want to be an ambassador,” said I.
“It’s more than you ever will be,” she retorted.
That is very likely true, but it is not more than I have been.
The idea of being an ambassador could scarcely dazzle me. I had been a king!
So pretty Rose left us in dudgeon; and Burlesdon, lighting a cigarette, looked at me still with that curious gaze.
“That picture in the paper—” he said.
“Well, what of it? It shows that the King of Ruritania and your humble servant are as like as two peas.”
My brother shook his head.
“I suppose so,” he said. “But I should know you from the man in the photograph.”