"Oh, my name! Hang it—let me see! Well—Gontran-Xavier—François—Marie—Joseph d'Amaury—Brissac de Roncesvaulx de la Rochemartel-Boisségur, at your service!"
"Quite correct!" said Dodor; "l'enfant dit vrai!"
"Well—I—never! And what's your name, Dodor?"
"Oh! I'm only a humble individual, and answer to the one-horse name of Théodore Rigolot de Lafarce. But Zouzou's an awful swell, you know—his brother's the Duke!"
Little Billee was no snob. But he was a respectably brought-up young Briton of the higher middle class, and these revelations, which he could not but believe, astounded him so that he could hardly speak. Much as he flattered himself that he scorned the bloated aristocracy, titles are titles—even French titles!—and when it comes to dukes and princesses who live in houses like the Hôtel de la Rochemartel ...!
It's enough to take a respectably brought-up young Briton's breath away!
When he saw Taffy that evening, he exclaimed: "I say, Zouzou's mother's a duchess!"
"Yes—the Duchesse de la Rochemartel-Boisségur."