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"You see my dear it was rather tremendous what you did. You must have been most fearfully sick of things at Kunitz. I can well understand it. You couldn't be expected to like me all at once. And if I had to have that Disthal woman at my heels wherever I went I'd shoot myself. What you've done is much braver really than shooting one's self.
She had on the clothes she had travelled in, for a search among the garments bought by Fritzing had resulted in nothing but a sitting on the side of the bed and laughing tears, so it was clearly not the clothes that made her seem all of a sparkle with lovely youth and blitheness. Kunitz would not have recognized its ivory Princess in this bright being.
Secondly, that the only way to get to the bottom being to run away from Kunitz, she was going to run. Thirdly, that the best and nicest place for living at the bottom would be England. You could not, said Priscilla, expect soil at the top of ladders, could you? Fourthly, they were to live somewhere in the country in England, in the humblest way. Fifthly, she was to be his daughter.
Morrison knew nothing of Kunitz, and the look lost half its potency without its impressive background. Besides, the lady was not one to notice things so slight as looks; to keep her in her proper place you would have needed sledge-hammers.
"I see," said the Prince quietly. "And I'm convinced. Of course, then, I shall suggest your leaving this." "I want to." "And putting yourself in the care of the Disthal." Priscilla winced. "Only her temporary care. Quite temporary. And letting her take you back to Kunitz." Priscilla winced again. "Only temporarily," said the Prince. "But my father would never " "Yes my dear, he will.
Annalise had been supposed to wash them or cause them to be washed the day before, but Annalise had been far too busy crying to do anything of the sort; and by four o'clock Priscilla was goaded by them into a condition of mind so unworthy that she was thinking quite hard about the Kunitz fine linen and other flesh-pots and actually finding the recollection sweet.
"He he's too ill." "Well then, ma'am," said Fritzing with a gesture of extreme exasperation, "since you cannot be allowed to be cast into gaol there remains but Kunitz. Like the dogs of the Scriptures we will return " "Why not borrow of the vicar?" interrupted Priscilla. "Surely he would be glad to help any one in difficulties?" "Of the vicar?
In the attic Annalise sat down and wrote a letter breathing lofty sentiments to the Countess Disthal in Kunitz, telling her she could no longer keep silence in the face of a royal parent's anxieties and she was willing to reveal the address of the Princess Priscilla and so staunch the bleeding of a noble heart if the Grand Duke would forward her or forward to her parents on her behalf the sum of twenty thousand marks.
He is of course not noble yet, but his family is excellent. And since it is not possible to have as many ailments as she has and still be alive, some at least must be feigned. Why, then, should she feign if it is not in order to see the doctor? They were saying in Kunitz that she sent for him this very day." "Yes, she did. But she's really ill this time.
As for Fritzing, he is Hofbibliothekar of the Prince's father's court library; a court more brilliant than and a library vastly inferior to the one he had fled from at Kunitz. He keeps much in his rooms, and communes almost exclusively with the dead. He finds the dead alone truly satisfactory. Priscilla loves him still and will always love him, but she is very busy and has little time to think.
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