"
The Great Man drew a chair to the table.
"You won't miss out anything--will you?" insisted Tommy.
"I shall endeavour, Miss Jane, to give you no cause for complaint,"
gravely he assured her, and sat down to write.
Not till the train began to slacken speed had the Prince finished.
Then, blotting and refolding the paper, he stood up.
"I have added some instructions on the back of the last page,"
explained the Prince, "to which you will draw Mr. Hope's particular
attention. I would wish you to promise me, Miss Jane, never again
to have recourse to dangerous acrobatic tricks, not even in the
sacred cause of journalism."
"Of course, if you hadn't been so jolly difficult to get at--"
"My fault, I know," agreed the Prince. "There is not the least
doubt as to which sex you belong to. Nevertheless, I want you to
promise me. Come," urged the Prince, "I have done a good deal for
you--more than you know."
"All right," consented Tommy a little sulkily. Tommy hated making
promises, because she always kept them. "I promise."
"There is your Interview." The first Southampton platform lamp
shone in upon the Prince and Tommy as they stood facing one
another. The Prince, who had acquired the reputation, not
altogether unjustly, of an ill-tempered and savage old gentleman,
did a strange thing: taking the little, blood-smeared face between
his paws, he kissed it.
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