She laughed scornfully.
"How like you, Armand," she said. "It's only a short while since you
were just as thoughtful for me."
I was too angry to reply, but she could read my thoughts in my eyes.
And she answered them with a taunting smile and a toss of her head.
So there was silence, for a space; then, she spoke to Courtney:
"I understand. Your Excellency refuses me your protection because I am
a Valerian subject?"
Courtney bowed.
"Made so by your own statements," he answered.
"And Your Majesty refuses to interfere between the Governor of Dornlitz
and me, because, as his wife, I am subject to his authority?"
"In effect, yes," said Frederick.
"And you, my Lord Armand, declare that I am not your wife and,
therefore, that I am an American subject?"
"I think, Mrs. Spencer, we have gone over that matter _ad nauseam_," I
said.
"I grant you the nauseousness," she retorted.
"A bare-faced lie may not be over chary as to the defence it provokes,"
I answered.
She gathered up her skirts, and turned toward the door.
"What a pretty sight you three are," she sneered. "A King, an
Ambassador and a Royal Archduke playing with one poor woman like cats
with a mouse. Truly, sirs, you should have lived three hundred years
ago. You would have shown rare skill in the torture chambers of the
Holy Inquisition."
"'Pon my soul, madame!" Frederick exclaimed, "I'm glad to hear a frank
opinion of myself. It's a privilege that rarely comes to a King."
"More's the pity for the King," she replied. "And more's the shame for
his selfish advisers," and she looked at Courtney, and, then, at me.
"Have I Your Majesty's permission to depart--to my hotel?" she ended.
The King nodded, without replying.
She swept him another of those wonderful curtsies; then turned to
Moore, who swung back the door for her.
At the threshold she looked back and smiled at me.
"_Au revoir_, Armand, dear, _au revoir_," she said almost caressingly;
"you will come back to me soon, I know."
Before I could frame an answer she was gone.