“That’s what Rosy tells me.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself?”
“Do Hyacinth’s job? Because it’s better to do my own.”
“And, pray, what is your own?”
“I don’t know,” said Paul Muniment, with perfect serenity and good-nature. “I expect to be instructed.”
“Have you taken an oath, like Hyacinth?”
“Ah, madam, the oaths I take I don’t tell,” said the young man, gravely.
“Oh, you . . .!” the Princess murmured, with an ambiguous cadence. She appeared to dismiss the question, but to suggest at the same time that he was very abnormal. This imputation was further conveyed by the next words she uttered: “And can you see a dear friend whirled away like that?”
At this, for the first time, Paul Muniment exhibited a certain irritation. “You had better leave my dear friend to me.”
The Princess, with her eyes still fixed upon him, gave a long, soft sigh. “Well, then, shall we go?”