“Really,” he began.
“Believe me, sir,” said Jeneski quickly, “I deeply regret this violent and dramatic procedure. I assure you that it is not at all in my character, but I had no choice. I have strained every nerve to reach here at the earliest possible moment. I should have arrived last night, but was delayed by a series of misadventures which I will not weary you by reciting. So when, twenty minutes ago, at the villa of Madame Davis, I learned of this conference, I could only hasten here and force my way in.”
“You may as well force your way out again,” broke in Mrs. Davis, who had listened to all this with a face even redder than the king’s. “If you think for a minute my daughter will have anything to do with you....”
“Hush, mother,” whispered the girl, her face convulsed.
“I confess,” said the king politely, “that I do not understand. Is it that you profess to have some claim upon this young lady?”
“Only the claim of a man who loves her,” said Jeneski humbly.
“Love!” began Mrs. Davis, violently.
But again her daughter stopped her.
“I am at a very great disadvantage,” went on Jeneski. “It is very difficult to speak—to explain—to say what I have to say thus publicly. If I for one moment might see Miss Davis alone....”
“Never!” cried her mother.