How
could it make any difference?"
"It couldn't--to you," said Green.
"Or to you?" said Juliet.
He laughed a little, his black brows working comically. "Madame, if I met
you hawking stale fish for cat's meat in the public street, I couldn't
venerate you more or adore you less. Whatever you do--is right."
"Good heavens!" said Juliet, and flushed in spite of herself. "What a
magnificent compliment! It's a pity you are not wearing a slouch hat with
an ostrich plume! You really need a plume to express that sort of
sentiment properly."
"Yes, I know," said Green. "But--I imagine you are not attracted by
plumes. In fact, you have just told me so. Proof positive of your
royalty! It is only crowned heads that can afford to despise them
nowadays."
"Mine isn't a crowned head," protested Juliet.
He looked at her searchingly. "Have you never been to Court?"
She snapped her fingers airily. "Of course! Dozens of times! Poor
companions always go to Court. How often do you go!"
"As often as you admit me to your most gracious presence," he said.
She clapped her hands softly. "Why, that is even prettier than the stale
fish one! Mr. Green, what can have happened to you?"
"I daren't tell you," he said.
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