"What nonsense!" said the Princess. "How can you believe these wild stories? Besides, who would shoot that pair?"
"But it's official."
"What is official?" asked the Prince appearing.
"The Archduke and Sophie were shot to-day in Sarajevo."
"Then what the devil made them go there? They might know beforehand that they wouldn't get out of there with whole skins," he replied, greeting his guest.
In the drawing-room I found the General, who in the excitement of the moment had been forgotten. He said as usual, "Pooh! that's not a funny joke, Sherry."
"That may be; but it's official, and you ought not to receive your 'officials' with 'pooh,' but perhaps it's your way here. Here is Excellenz von R—— in tears—she has brought the news from Vienna."
"Old wives' tales! I don't believe it."
Excellenz nevertheless persuaded him.
"Donnerwetter! Jesus Maria! And she tried to save him! Plucky woman—always was plucky. Skinflint though—a skinflint. Too fond of the Jesuits! This plot was arranged in Serbia, I'll stake my life—stake my life. Ach, those Serbs! The scum of creation—scum of creation! We must exterminate them one day. They have always been a trouble, but this will bring about their end at last. Ach, the poor Archduke and the poor Duchess! Ach! Pooh!"