Still, a malicious thing like the Tisch, if one gives her enough rope, might arrange, on paper at least, to get me with child by a Lothario a hundred miles off, even as the children of Madame de Montespan and Louis XIV were credited to the Marquis, her husband, residing a hundred leagues away, at Guienne. Let me find her red-handed and she will fare even worse than Schoenstein.
CHAPTER XXIV
MORE TYRANNY OF A TITLED SERVANT
My daily papers seized, and only milk-and-water clippings are submitted—"King's orders"—Grand Mistress's veracity doubted—My threats of suspension cow her.
Loschwitz, September 10, 1894.
This morning there were no newspapers at the usual hour. Instead, the Tisch furnished a heap of clippings carefully pasted up—the veriest milk-and-water slush "ever." Instanter I sent for my tormentor.
"What's this?" I demanded.
"Today's papers, Your Imperial Highness."