"I know he won't."
"You know the Prince will never propose to me?"
She nodded.
I flew at her, and took her by the shoulders, as if she'd been seven instead of—her present age.
"You cruel girl!" I exclaimed. "You're going to tell him how old I am, and—and a lot of hateful things."
"No, I'm not, and for a good reason. It wouldn't change his mind. So long as your banking account's all right, he wouldn't care if you were Methusaleh. I shan't tell him anything about you. I shan't mention your name. But he won't propose."
"What are you going to do?" I stammered.
"That's my secret."
"Oh, you have got something in your head?"
She nodded again. "And up my sleeve."