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 round, he saw the dark Amazon watching him from the castle steps with half-closed eyes. He became exceedingly ashamed of himself, stopped, and had a sudden foolish fear that the girl would come across and feel his hocks.

Mr. Carson, suddenly quite serious again, strolled over to him with his hands in his pockets and said in a friendly manner: “Not enough training. You shouldn’t spend the whole day sitting. Exercise your heart. So. A-a-a-a,” he sang out, glowing, “haholihoo! The daughter of the old man,” he added softly. “Princess Willy, that is Wilhelmina Adelaide Maud and so on. An interesting girl, twenty-eight years old, a great horsewoman. I must introduce you,” he said aloud and dragged the protesting Prokop up to the girl. “Princess,” he called when they were still some distance away, “let me introduce to you—to a certain extent against his will—our guest, Engineer Prokop. A terribly irate person. Wants to kill me.”

“Good-morning,” said the Princess, and turned to Mr. Carson: “Do you know that one of Whirlwind’s hocks is inflamed?”

“My God!” said Mr. Carson, horrified. “Poor Princess!”

“Do you play tennis?”

Prokop was frowning darkly and did not even realize that the remark was addressed to him.

“He doesn’t,” Carson answered for him and dug him in the ribs. “You must play. The Princess lost to Lenglen by only one set, eh?”

“Because I was playing against the sun,” said the Princess, a little piqued. “What do you play?”