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 sign with her eyes; still he did not move. The Princess stepped towards an old, one-armed major from the artillery, covered with medals. The major was just drawing himself up when she turned aside and was suddenly quite close to Prokop.

“Darling, darling,” she said in a clear soft voice, “do you? You’re getting angry again. I should like to kiss you.”

“Princess,” said Prokop in a thick voice, “what does this farce mean?”

“Don’t shout like that. It’s more important than you imagine. Do you know that they now want to give me in marriage?” She trembled with horror. “Darling, go away now. Go down the passage to the third room on the right and wait there for me. I must see you.”

“Listen,” Prokop wanted to say, but she only inclined her head and moved suavely across to the old major.

Prokop could not believe his eyes.

Could such things happen? Was it not really a carefully arranged performance? Were the different people taking their rôles seriously? The fat cousin took him by the arm and discreetly led him aside. “Do you know what this means?” he whispered excitedly. “The old Hagen is paralyzed. It’s a ruling family! Did you see that heir to a throne? There was to be a marriage, but it didn’t come off. That man is certainly sent here purposely. God, what a pedigree!” Prokop got free of him. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, walked down the passage as slowly as possible and went into the appointed room. It was a sort of little boudoir for