"It really is all very funny," she said.
"And how is the estimable Mrs. Hardcastle?" he asked, when he had laughed too—his joyous laugh. "This is a safe subject and we can sit on the fender without your wanting to push me into the fire over it."
"I am not at all sure of that," answered Tamara. She could not resist his charm, she could not continue quarrelling with him; somehow it seemed too difficult here in his own house, so she smiled as she went on. "If you laugh at my Millicent, I shall get very angry indeed."
"Laugh at your Millicent! The idea is miles from my brain—did not I tell you when I could find a wife like that I would marry—what more can I say!" and the Prince looked at her with supreme gravity. "Did she tell 'Henry' that a devil of a Russian bear had got drunk and flung a gipsy into the sea?"
"Possibly. Why were you so—horrible that night?"
"Was I horrible?"
"Probably not, but you seemed so to me," Tamara quoted his late words.
"I seem horrible—and you seem sweet."
"Surely the stupid comes in too!"
"Undoubtedly, but Russia will cure that, you will not go away for a long time."