She rejoined Wally and Mary in a somewhat exalted mood. Her gait was queenly enough to attract Wally's attention, and he immediately demanded to be told why she was sailing about like a dying swan. She relaxed sufficiently to inform him pithily that if he wanted to be vulgar he could take his vulgarity to those that liked it; for in spite of having grace, beauty, and a lonely soul, she was also a woman of spirit, and saw no reason for putting up with rudeness from Wally, or from anyone else. But this was only a temporary emergence from the cloud of abstraction in which she had wrapped herself, and she sank into an armchair, with really very creditable grace for a woman of her size, and became so aloof from her surroundings that she failed to notice that the dog, Prince, was lying curled up under her husband's chair. Her discovery of his unwanted presence coincided rather unfortunately with the human-Prince's entry into the room, when the spaniel, who was of a friendly disposition, at once rushed forward to accord the stranger an effusive welcome.
Ermyntrude's air of pensiveness fell from her as soon as she saw the spaniel jumping up at her guest, and she exclaimed with strong indignation: "If you haven't let that Prince come into the house, Wally! I told you the stable was the place for him!"
"There, I knew what it would be!" said Wally, not without satisfaction. He observed a slightly startled look upon the other Prince's face, and added: "It's all right, she doesn't mean you. Down, Prince. Good old dog, lie down then!"
"Ah!" the Prince said, showing his gleaming teeth in a smile of perfect comprehension. "There are two of us then, and this fine fellow is a prince also! It is very amusing! But you will not banish him on my account, I beg! I am very fond of dogs, I assure you."
"He oughtn't to be in the drawing-room at all," said Ermyntrude. "He smells."
"Ah, poor fellow!" said the Prince, sitting down, and stroking the spaniel. "Look, Trudinka, what sad eyes he makes at you! But you are a lucky prince, and I shall not pity you, for you are more lucky than I am, do you see, with a fine home of your own, which no Bolsheviki will burn to the ground."
"Is that what was done to your house?" asked Ermyntrude, shocked.
He made a gesture with his hands. "Fortune of war, Trudinka. I am lucky that I have not also lost my life."
"How dreadful for you!" said Mary, feeling that some remark was expected of her. "I didn't know the Bolsheviks were as bad in Georgia."
"Did you lose everything?" said Ermyntrude.