"Bother the Countess," I said. (The Countess Giska was the Princess's chief Lady in Waiting—and she and my aide-de-camp, Moore, were in the rear of the Box, which, fortunately, was sufficiently deep to put them out of ear-shot.)
"Or, I might ask Major Moore. I think he would be glad to do it," she said.
"He would be a most extraordinary Irishman if he were not more than glad," I said. "But, when I'm around, Dehra, the pleasure is mine alone."
"Goodness, Armand, you would not be jealous?" she mocked.
"I don't know what it's called," said I, "but that's it."
"Haven't you ever been jealous, dear?" she asked.
"I never cared enough for a girl to be jealous," I said.
"I fancy you've cared for so many you had no time to entertain the Green-eyed Monster," she said.
I evaded the thrust. "Has he ever visited you?" I asked.
She ignored the question.