"Well, then, I must tell you: they won't let me go to Monte Carlo, Britten. They say the Emperor forbids it."
"But, madame, is there any need to ask the old gentleman's permission? Aren't you an American citizen?"
She laughed at my idea of it, and asked me if I would like a glass of port wine, which I did to oblige her; while she took another as though she liked it, which I have no reason to suppose she did not.
"You see, Britten," she said, presently, "a woman is of her husband's nationality, and so, of course, I am a Hungarian. That is why the Emperor has the power to say that I must not be admitted to Monte Carlo just at the moment when my dear husband is waiting for me there. Now, don't you think it is very hard upon us both?"
"It's very hard on him, madame, seeing you are in the case. I should want to know him before I said the same thing for you, asking your pardon for the liberty."
She took no notice of this, but casting up her eyes to heaven—and at that game Miss Sarah Bernhardt out of Paris couldn't beat her—she exclaimed:
"Oh, my poor Joseph, whatever will he think of me? I dare not contemplate it, Britten—I really dare not."
"Then I should leave it alone, madame. Is there no way of getting this decision altered?"
"None that I can think of, unless——"
"Unless what, madame?"