"Blithers!" exclaimed Dank, sinking back into his chair.
"Blithers," repeated Totten, but with an entirely different inflection. The word was conviction itself as he pronounced it.
R. Schmidt indulged in a wry little smile. "It amounts to nearly twenty million dollars, Count. That's a great deal of money to spend in the pursuit of an idle whim."
"Humph!" grunted the old Count, and then favoured the sunny-faced Prince with a singularly sharp glance. "Of course, you understand his game?"
"Perfectly. It's as clear as day. He intends to be the crown father-in-law. I suppose he will expect Graustark to establish an Order of Royal Grandfathers."
"It may prove to be no jest, Robin," said the Count seriously.
"My dear Quinnox, don't look so sad," cried the Prince. "He may have money enough to buy Graustark but he hasn't enough to buy grandchildren that won't grow, you know. He is counting chickens before they're hatched, which isn't a good business principle, I'd have you to know."
"What was it he said to you at Red Roof?"
"That was nothing. Pure bluster."
"He said he had never set his heart on anything that he didn't get in the end, wasn't that it?"