“I was thinking of you,” she said in greeting, as he came up.

“How nice you are,” he said.  “But, my dear, is it wise in you to be thinking of us handsome devils?  It’s a most dangerous habit—­thinking of other men.”

“But, Deppy, dear, the Prince isn’t here,” she said, falling into his humour.  “That makes quite a difference, doesn’t it?”

“Your logic is splendid.  Pray resume your thoughts of me—­if they were pleasant and agreeable.  I’ll not blow on you to Karl.”

“I was just thinking what a lucky fellow you are to have such a darling as Agnes for a wife.”

“You might as well say that Agnes ought to feel set up because Pong has a nice coat.  By the way, I have a compliment for you—­no, not one of their beastly trade-lasts!  Browne says your hair is more beautiful than Pong’s.  That’s quite a compliment, Titian never even dreamed of hair like Pong’s.”

“You know, Deppy,” she said with a pout, “I am very unhappy about my hair.  It is quite red.  I don’t see why I should have hair like that of a red cocker.  It seems so animalish.”

“Rubbish!  Why should you complain?  Look at my hair.  It’s been likened more than once to that of a jersey cow.”

“Oh, how I adore jersey cows!  Now, I wouldn’t mind that a bit.”

They were looking toward the lower gates while carrying on this frivolous conversation.  A man had just entered and was coming toward them.  Both recognised the tall figure in grey flannels.  Deppingham’s emotion was that of undisguised amazement; Genevra’s that of confusion and embarrassment.  She barely had recovered her lost composure when the newcomer was close upon them.

There was nothing in the manner of Chase, however, to cause the slightest feeling of uneasiness.  He was frankness itself.  His smile was one of apology, almost of entreaty; his broad grass helmet was in his hand and his bow was one of utmost deference.

“I trust I am not intruding,” he said as he came up.  His gaze was as much for Deppingham as for the Princess, his remark quite impersonal.

“Not at all, not at all,” said Deppingham quickly, his heart leaping to the conclusion that the way to the American bar was likely to be opened at last.  “Charmed to have you here, Mr. Chase.  You’ve been most unneighbourly.  Have you been presented to her Highness, the—­Oh, to be sure.  Of course you have.  Stupid of me.”

“We met ages ago,” she said with an ingenuous smile, which would have disarmed Chase if he had been prepared for anything else.  As a matter of fact, he had approached her in the light of an adventurer who expects nothing and grasps at straws.

“In the dark ages,” said he so ruefully that her smile grew.  He had come, in truth, to ascertain why her husband had not come with her.

“But not the forgotten variety, I fancy,” said Deppingham shrewdly.

“It would be impossible for the Princess to forget the greatest of all fools,” said Chase.