Dear Betty,
Your letter this morning gave me great pleasure. I do not know that there is very much pleasure in this business of being King—
But he got no further.
The folding doors facing him were suddenly reopened.
Then there entered, not Geoffrey Blunt, nor any other member of the secretarial staff, but—the old Duke of Northborough.
The King looked up with a surprise which at once gave place to a smile of welcome. This was contrary to all etiquette. But he was glad to see the old Duke. And it was in deference to his own repeated requests on the subject that the veteran Prime Minister had lately consented to make his visits to the palace, in working hours, as informal as possible.
Putting down his pipe, and his pen, the King stood up to receive the old statesman.
The Duke, as if to atone for the abruptness of his entry, paused for a moment on the threshold of the large and lofty room, and bowed, with a slightly accentuated formality.
The folding doors behind him were closed by unseen hands.
Then he advanced, into the room, towards the King.