“Well, Harry,” said Kilkee, as he dashed open the door. “Well, Harry, how are you, better than last night, I hope?”
“Oh yes, considerably. In fact, I can’t think what could have been the matter with me; but I felt confoundedly uncomfortable.”
“You did! Why, man, what can you mean; was it not a joke?”
“A joke,” said I, with a start.
“Yes, to be sure. I thought it was only the sequel of the other humbug.”
“The sequel of the other humbug!” Gracious mercy! thought I, getting pale with horror, is it thus he ventures to designate my attachment to his sister?
“Come, come, it’s all over now. What the devil could have persuaded you to push the thing so far?”
“Really, I am so completely in the dark as to your meaning that I only get deeper in mystery by my chance replies. What do you mean?”
“What do I mean! Why, the affair of last night of course. All Munich is full of it, and most fortunately for you, the king has taken it all in the most good-humoured way, and laughs more than any one else about it.”
Oh, then, thought I, I must have done or said something last night during my illness, that I can’t remember now. “Come, Kilkee, out with it. What happened last night, that has served to amuse the good people of Munich? for as I am a true man, I forget all you are alluding to.”