The Princess stared. “Do you mean that you are giving up——?”
“A fine, stiff conservative’s a thing I perfectly understand,” said Paul Muniment. “If I were on the top I’d stick.”
“I see, you’re not narrow,” she breathed appreciatively.
“I beg your pardon, I am. I don’t call that wide. One must be narrow to penetrate.”
“Whatever you are you’ll succeed,” said the Princess. “Hyacinth won’t, but you will.”
“It depends upon what you call success!” the young man returned. And in a moment, before she could take it up, he added as he looked about the room: “You’ve got a lovely home.”
“Lovely? My dear sir, it’s hideous. That’s what I like it for,” she hastened to explain.
“Well, I like it, but perhaps I don’t know the reason. I thought you had given up everything—pitched your goods out of window for a grand scramble.”
“It’s what I have done. You should have seen me before.”