The War Lady, trembling with amazement, half raised herself from the floor and, balancing on her right arm, stared wildly.
"Seize my plant?" she gasped; but the War Lord paid no attention. Kicking his sword aside, he once more seized pencil and writing-block.
"Cum infamia," he read, as if for Bertha's benefit. Then his pencil flew rapidly over the paper: "The plant to be taken over by the act of the Sovereign, Gwinner and Emil Rathenau to look to the financial end, Dernburg and Thyssen to examine the business end." (Arthur von Gwinner, German railway magnate; August Thyssen, mine owner and merchant prince.) He was grabbing the speaking-tube, when Bertha took hold of his shoulder.
"Uncle Majesty," she whispered softly.
"If you please, Frau Krupp, no familiarities," barked the War Lord. "You are interfering in business of State."
"Listen, Uncle," pleaded Bertha.
"No, you listen to your King," said the War Lord coaxingly, "that is, if you will be once more my good little girl, and not presume to mix in my affairs, in affairs of the State."
"I am at Your Majesty's mercy," sobbed Bertha.
"You ought to have thought of that before."
"Forgive me, forgive me, Uncle Majesty."