Chumbley’s brow contracted, but he could not help admiring the girl’s firmness.
“Do you like my wine?” said a voice then, and the lieutenant started on finding that the Princess had been narrowly watching them.
“Yes, it is delicious,” he said, smiling.
“I drink to you, as you English do,” she said, taking a cup from the same tray as that which had borne those of Chumbley and Grey Stuart. “I drink to your health—you two,” she said again, and she seemed to drain the cup. “Do you not think it good?” she said, in a low voice, and with a singularly impressive smile. “Surely you do not think I would give poison to my friends.”
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Eight.
After the Feast.
The Inche Maida turned her head just then in reply to some remark made by Captain Hilton, and Chumbley took advantage thereof to whisper to his companion:
“The Princess must have understood what we said. How provoking that I should have uttered such a foolish remark! Why, I quite frightened you!”