"
"Here's a kettle of fish!" I groaned.
"Tut, tut!" said Sapt. "I suppose you've made pretty speeches to a girl
before now? That's all she wants."
Fritz, himself a lover, understood better my distress. He laid his hand
on my shoulder, but said nothing.
"I think, though," pursued that cold-blooded old Sapt, "that you'd
better make your offer tonight."
"Good heavens!"
"Or, any rate, go near it: and I shall send a 'semi-official' to the
papers."
"I'll do nothing of the sort--no more will you!" said I. "I utterly
refuse to take part in making a fool of the princess."
Sapt looked at me with his small keen eyes. A slow cunning smile passed
over his face.
"All right, lad, all right," said he. "We mustn't press you too hard.
Soothe her down a bit, if you can, you know. Now for Michael!"
"Oh, damn Michael!" said I. "He'll do tomorrow. Here, Fritz, come for a
stroll in the garden."
Sapt at once yielded. His rough manner covered a wonderful tact--and
as I came to recognize more and more, a remarkable knowledge of human
nature. Why did he urge me so little about the princess? Because he
knew that her beauty and my ardour would carry me further than all his
arguments--and that the less I thought about the thing, the more likely
was I to do it.
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