"It is a thing which we do not want to have talked about in the hotel,"
the young man hesitated.
"I assure you I won't talk to any one. I don't know any one to talk to."
"It is very distressing, but the Princess Boriskoff died about four
o'clock this morning, of heart failure."
"Oh!" ... I could not get out another word.
"These things are not liked in hotels, even when not contagious."
The assistant manager looked gloomily at me, as if I might be held
responsible for the inconvenient event; but still I could not speak.
"Especially in the high season. It is being kept secret. That is the
custom. In some days, or less, it will leak out, but not till the
Princess has--been removed. You will kindly not mention it,
mademoiselle. This is very bad for us."
No, I would kindly not mention it, but it was worse for me than for
them. The Hotel Majestic Palace looked rich; very, very rich. It had
heaps of splendid mirrors and curtains, and imitation Louis XVI. sofas,
and everything that a hotel needs to make it happy and successful, while
I had nothing in the world except what I stood up in, one fitted bag,
one small box, and thirty-two francs.
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