"I have seen many beautiful things," he said, in French, which permits a man to say more than he may I in English, "but none so beautiful as what I have seen to-night."
Dodo was far too accomplished a coquette to pretend not to know what he meant. She made him a charming little obeisance.
"Politeness required that of your Highness," she said. "That is only my due, you know."
"I can never give you your due," said he.
"My due in this case is the knowledge I have pleased you."
Dodo felt suddenly a little uncomfortable. The forgotten picture flashed for a moment across her inward eye. She spoke of other things: praised the prettiness of the ballroom, the excellence of the band.
"Lady Bretton has given a fine setting to the diamond," said the Prince, "but the diamond is not hers."
Dodo laughed. He was a little ponderous, and he deserved to be told so.
"You Austrians have beautiful manners," she said, "but you are too serious. English are always accused of sharing that fault, but anyhow, when they pay compliments, they have at least the air of not meaning what they say."
"That is the fault of the English, or of the compliment."