This perfectly innocent and sincerely asked question was never answered, for Mr. Snip the Tailor made up his mind that the Unwiseman was guying him and acted accordingly.
"Jorrocks!" he cried haughtily to the office boy, a fresh looking lad who had broken out all over in brass buttons. "Jorrocks, show this 'ere party the door."
Whereupon Mr. Snip retired and Jorrocks with a wink at Whistlebinkie showed the travellers out.
"Well did you ever!" ejaculated the Unwiseman. "You couldn't have expected any haughtier haughtiness than that from the King himself."
"He was pretty proud," said Mollie, with a smile, for to tell the truth she had had all she could do all through the interview to keep from giggling.
"He was proud all right, but I didn't notice anything very pretty about him," said the Unwiseman. "I'm going to write to the King about both those places, because I don't believe he knows what kind of people they are with their bogus muffins and hoity-toity manners."
They walked solemnly along the street in the direction of the hotel.
"I won't even wait for the mail," said the Unwiseman. "I'll walk over to the Palace now and tell him. That tailor might turn some real important American out of his shop in the same way and then there'd be a war over it."
"O I wouldn't," said Mollie, who was always inclined toward peace-making. "Wait and write him a letter."
"Send-im-a-wireless-smessage," whistled Whistlebinkie.