“No other man, possibly,” added Edson, “except the Crown Prince of Budavia.”
IX
On the way back to Paris Grey’s thoughtful silence contrasted so markedly with his cheery loquacity of the morning that Fraülein von Altdorf was led to observe:
“I do believe you’re tired, Uncle Max.”
“Tired?” he repeated, forcing a smile. “No, my child, not a bit. The day has been a joy. I’ve revelled in it. Tired! The idea! Am I a septuagenarian or am I an invalid?”
“But you haven’t spoken for fifteen whole minutes.”
“Haven’t I, really? I suppose I was thinking.”
“Of what?” she asked, mischievously.