Mimosa. Would you, O most excellent, fear the touch of the Princess?
Cecil. Fear? Not the least little scrap.
Yuki. And you, O most honorable Ancient?
Miss P. (snappishly). If you are addressing me, young woman, it is all nonsense. I shall be thankful to find myself safely out of this, and not in prison!
Voice (calls). O Mimosa San!
Girls. The Princess!
ENTER Princess R.
Cecil. I have a horrible feeling that I should bow to the earth—kiss her feet, or something. Poor child, how sad she looks! Now, for a very low bow.
Princess (seeing her, starts; she removes R.). Away, most exalted stranger—away, lest evil come—I am accursed! Away, O most venerable!