But the cook was off again.
‘Oh, it was you, was it? And you ought to be ashamed of yourself, a-frightening a poor lone-lorn woman. Call yourself a Princess? I call you a——’
This was too much for the King.
‘That is enough,’ he said. ‘Take a month’s warning.’
To which the cook replied contemptuously:
‘You give me a month’s warning? Not a bit of it. I give you a minute’s warning! it’s quite enough for the likes of you.’
‘Oh, very well,’ said the King. ‘Of course, if you go off without warning, I don’t pay your month’s wages.’
‘Call yourself a King?’ roared the cook. ‘Why, you’re meaner than——’
‘I don’t know what I call myself,’ said the King mildly, ‘but if you don’t go I’ll call a policeman and have your head cut off instead of your wages.’