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"But the sentiments, Fritzi what do you think of the sentiments?" "Alas, ma'am, they too are an infraction of rules." "What is not in this place, I should like to know?" sighed Priscilla, her chin on her hand, her eyes on that distant line of hills beyond which, she told herself, lay freedom. She had long ago left off saying it only to herself.
Let the obvious stranger whisper "Schatz'rl" to a powdered Fritzi on the bench next to him, and he will be ignored for his impertinence. The same salutation from a Viennese will call forth a coquettish "Raubersbua." He will find neither Americans nor American drinks.
"Dear Fritzi," said Priscilla looking at him with love and admiration, "how clever you are." It was on the Tuesday, the day Priscilla and Fritzing left Baker's and moved into Creeper Cottage, that the fickle goddess who had let them nestle for more than a week beneath her wing got tired of them and shook them out.
Aloud she said, "The girl here to-day will tell you where she lives. Of course she has forgotten, or not been able to change it yet." And she left him, and went out to get into her own half of the house. Yes, Fritzi really was a trial. Why such a fuss and such big words about five pounds?
He merely said slowly and thoughtfully, "Of course the dancer's story is all you really have to go upon. You had better bring her here." "Nothing easier," Billy declared, and thinking a cab as prompt as a telephone he drove briskly off. The hotel held a shock for him. Fritzi Baroff was gone. She had gone the evening before, the clerk reported, consulting the register, and she had paid her bill.
He had packed Fritzi off, with a newly acquired maid, for a drive up and down the safe public streets and he had re-interviewed the one-eyed man and the native chauffeur that the one-eyed man introduced for the evening's work, and he was at one of the public desks in the writing room, inditing a letter to his aunt, which, he whimsically appreciated, might be his last mortal composition, and reflecting thankfully that it was highly unnecessary to make a will, when Lady Claire strolled into the room and over to a desk.
"I've left letters with Fritzi Baroff," said Hill, "and if we're not back by morning, she's to go to the authorities with them." "That won't do us any good," said the Englishman grimly. But after the ladies returned it was a very merry-seeming tea party.
"I admit I permitted the immediate, the passing, moment to blot out the future from my clearer vision on that occasion." "On that occasion? Oh Fritzi. What about all the other occasions? When you gave me all I asked for for the poor people, for my party. You must have suffered tortures of anxiety. And all by yourself. Oh Fritzi. It was dear of you perfectly, wonderfully, dear.
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