But why tell you the story of
my life? Play fair now, and tell me a lot about yourself. Where am I?"
"You are here in my father's private garden, where you hare no right to
be."
"And father?"
"Is Count Selim Malagaski, Governor-General of Morovenia."
"Wow! And you?"
"I am his daughter."
"The daughter of all that must be something. Have you a title?"
"I am called Princess."
"Can you beat that? Climb up a wall to see some A-rabs perform, and find
a real, sure-enough princess, and likewise, if you don't mind my saying
so, a pippin."
"I don't know what you mean," she said.
"A corker."
"Corker?"
"I mean that you're a good-looker--that it's no labor at all to gaze
right at you. I didn't think they grew them so far from headquarters,
but I see I'm wrong. You are certainly all right. Pardon me for saying
this to you so soon after we meet, but I have learned that you will
never break a woman's heart by telling her that she is a beaut."
[Illustration: "Are you a real ingenue, or a kidder?"]
Kalora leaned back in her chair and laughed. She was beginning to
comprehend the whimsical humor of the very unusual young man. His direct
and playful manner of speech amused her, and also seemed to reassure
her.
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