'Yes; but he will get up, because he will want to be off to Monte Carlo. He will spend his life there and send over expresses every hour for fresh rouleaux. When he is near a gaming-table he is so happy.'
'It is my faculty too. But I try against it; he doesn't. Men never try to resist anything.'
Geraldine murmured words to the effect that his life was one long compulsory resistance, and his eyes completed the uncomplete sentences.
'Don't talk nonsense,' said his hostess. 'You know I do not like _madrigaux_; and an Englishman always looks so clumsy when he is making them. Make me a cigarette instead.'
'Always cruel!' murmured her companion, obediently rolling up Turkish tobacco.
'Always kind,' said the Princess. 'People who are kind to men and children never spoil them. Where will your schooner stay? There is no dock, or quay, or whatever you call it, here. These places always ought to have one of their own.'
'How can they when the rocks go sheer down into deep water? No, I must keep her off Villefranche or Monaco. She can be round in half an hour--at your disposition, of course, like her owner.'
'If she be not more manageable than her owner----'
'Oh, Nadine! When I only live to obey your orders, and never even receive a smile in return!'
'Ah, if you want reward there is no longer any merit! And do not call me by my name in that manner; you will do it some day before Platon.'
'No, of course he does not mind; but I do, which is more to the purpose.'
'You are very unkind to-day, princess. This unhappy Jacquemerille! it is grievous that you don't like it; the gardens are really pretty, and the view is superb.'
'You talk like an auctioneer; go and find the gardener and tell him to untie those palms.'
'Do tell me, princess,' he murmured timidly. 'You will stay now that you are here, will you not?'
'How can I answer for the duration of my fancies? Perhaps I may, if you amuse me well enough.'
'Ah, my friend, that is quite impossible. Even to be amused is hard enough, when one is not in the humour. When one is in the humour, it is even fun to go out fishing; when one is not, one is dull even at a masked ball at Petersburg. We are like the cuttle-fish, we make our sphere muddy with our own dulness. How would you suggest that I should find any interest here? There will be no society except some gouty statesmen and some sickly women, a few yachtsmen, a pigeon-shooter or two, and quantities of people one cannot know.'