"You forget," he said gently, "I am a duke. I have certain feudal privileges, conferred by a grateful dynasty, one of which, I believe, is to shoot cats."
"I can only regret," she fired back at him, from the door of the little conservatory that led into the house, "that I cannot accept your generous estimate of yourself. The ridiculous court that is being paid to you by the wretched people in this road must have turned your head. I should prefer the evidence of De Gotha before I even accepted your miserable title."
Slam!
She had banged the door behind her.
"Here I say!" called the alarmed Duke, "please come back! Aren't I in De Gotha?"
He looked down on Hank.
"Hank," he said soberly, "did you hear that tremendous charge? She don't believe there is no Mrs. Harris!"
V
Two days later he ascended the step ladder again.
With leather gloves, a gardening apron, and with the aid of a stick she was coaxing some drooping Chinese daisies into the upright life.