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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Goose Girl"

The divinity
that hedges in a king did not bother either of them just then.
"You have not asked me to dance to-night," she declared.
"I know it."
"Why?"
"I am neither a prince nor an ambassador."
"But you _have_ danced with me."
"Yes; I have been to Heaven now and then."
"And do you eject yourself thus easily?"
"By turning myself out my self-esteem remains unruffled."
"Then you expected to be turned out?"
"Sooner or later."
"Why?"
Again that word! To him it was the most tantalizing word in the
language. It crucified him.
"Why?" she repeated, her eyes soft and dreamy.
"As I have said, I am not a prince. I am only a consul, not even a
diplomat, simply a business arm of my government. My diplomacy never
ascends above the quality of hops and wines imported. I am supposed to
take in any wandering sailor, feed him, and ship him home. I am also the
official guide of all American tourists."
"That is no reason."
"Your father--" He should have said the grand duke.
"Ah, yes; my father, the chancellor, the ambassadors, and their wives
and daughters! I begin to believe that you have grown afraid of them."
"I confess that I have. I had an adventure last night. Would you like to
hear about it?"
How beautiful she was in that simple gown of white, unadorned by any
jewels save the little crown of sparkling white stones in her hair!
"Tell me.


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