"Is she likely to—er—marry any one of them, O'Dowd?"
"Do you mean, is she betrothed to one of the royal nuts? If I were her worst enemy I couldn't wish her anything as bad as that. The world is full of regular men,—like meself, for example,—and 'twould be a pity to see her wasted upon anything so cheap as a king."
"Then, she isn't?"
"Isn't what?"
"Betrothed."
"Oh!" He squinted his eyes drolly. "Bedad, if she is, she's kept it a secret from me. Have you aspirations, me friend?"
"Certainly not," said Barnes sharply. "By the way, you have mentioned Prince Bolaroz the Sixth, but you haven't given a name to the country he ruled."
O'Dowd stared. "The Saints preserve us! Is the man a numbskull? Are you saying that you don't know who and what—My God, such ignorance bewilders me!"
"Painful as it may be to you, O'Dowd, I don't seem able to place Bolaroz in his proper realm."
"Whist, then!" He put his hand to his mouth and whispered a name.