“That is the Grand Duke John of Siresia,” I volunteered, idly.
“So it is,” said O’Hagan with lively interest. “So it is!”
And ere I could say another word he had stepped to the door of the car, opened it, and engaged the distinguished foreigner in conversation!
Whilst I knew O’Hagan’s visiting-list to be extensive and peculiar, I hitherto had been unaware that he was acquainted with the Siresian autocrat. His action took me completely by surprise. Then, just as the policeman ahead released the pent-up traffic, my friend turned and beckoned to me.
Full of a great wonder, I joined him at the open door.
“Get in, Raymond!” he directed briefly, and thrust me, speechless with astonishment, into a seat opposite the great personage.
The chauffeur glanced back. The footman leapt down and came to the step. As in a dream, I heard rapid, guttural instructions. The footman saluted and leapt to his place. The car moved smoothly onward.
O’Hagan raised his monocle, gazing at the bearded nobleman; then waved it gracefully in my direction.
“You may not have met my friend, Mr. Lawrence Raymond,” he said, with the lordly condescension which he, alone, knows how to assume. “Raymond—His Highness the Grand Duke John of Siresia!”
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