She glanced at my uniform and at the gleaming Star of the Lion.
"They can be removed," I said; "they are only borrowed."
"No, Your Royal Highness," said she, "they cannot be removed—not in the way you mean; your word is passed to your King."
Your King! It was the first reminder I was no longer a free American, and it gave me something of a shock. And Dehra understood, and showed no mercy.
"And, as an Archduke of Valeria, and almost the Heir Presumptive, you must know what it means to give your word to your King," she said.
"I trust I know what it means to give my word to anyone," I returned.
"Now, don't get on your dignity, Armand," she laughed. "You understand me perfectly."
I raised my hands in protest. "Understand you perfectly!" I exclaimed. "I wish I understood you even a little."
"You're not as nice as you were during the first part of the dinner."
"Did you ever hear the slang Americanism 'there are others'?" I asked.