"Listen, George," Arl was trying another angle. "Maybe if I tell you what this is all about, then will you send me back?"
"I doubt it, but maybe I will. Just a slight, improbable maybe. But I guess you're grasping at straws now. Say on."
"Better send him back, George," Myra said. "I got you into this and you don't know what it's all about, but you better do what he says."
"Do you know what it's all about?"
"No, I don't. But I know more than you, and I know that you better not horse around."
"Well, I'll listen to what he has to say. But I better tell you now that I doubt if I'll send him back. I didn't really call him, you did. Now you send him back."
"If I could I would. I don't want to play around like this. It can cause trouble. If he loses his temper, George—well, just don't say I didn't warn you."
"Unfortunately," Arl admitted, "it takes me a long time to lose my temper. It never used to be that way. But Narka—that's the queen—has tamed me. A king should not be so impetuous, she told me, only she's as impetuous as hell. That's the trouble. She's all the time telling me to do things which will make me more polite, more refined, more cultured—none of which she does herself. The result is that I've become more of a figurehead, and she's the real power. It's regrettable."
"That's not an uncommon situation," George assured him. "But just what are you titular king of?"
"Then you do want to hear my story!"