You see, it was really extremely difficult. To say that he was tired of things as they were would sound ungrateful. Would, indeed, be most impolite. And then, exactly why had he run away?
“Suppose,” said the King, “you draw up a chair and tell me about it. We’d better talk it over, I think.”
His Royal Highness drew up a chair, and sat on it. His feet not reaching the floor, he hooked them around the chair-rung. This was permissible because, first, the King could not see them from his bed. Second, it kept his knees from shaking.
“Probably you are aware,” said the King, “that you have alarmed a great many people.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think—”
“A prince’s duty is to think.”
“Although,” observed His Royal Highness, “I don’t really believe Miss Braithwaite fainted. She may have thought she fainted, but her eyelids moved.”
“Where did you go?”
“To the park, sir. I—I thought I’d like to see the park by myself.”
“Go on.”