Lady Agnes gave a sudden shriek, and, leaping to her feet, performed a dance that set her husband and Bobby Browne to gasping.
"She's coming!" she cried ecstatically, repeating herself a dozen times.
"Who's coming, Aggie ?" roared her husband for the sixth time.
"She!" "She may be a steamship for all I know, if--" "The Princess! Deppy, I'm going to squeeze you! I must squeeze somebody! Isn't it glorious?
Now--now! Now life will be worth living in this beastly place." Her dearest friend, the Princess, had written to say that she was coming to spend a month with her.

Her dear schoolmate of the old days in Paris--her chum of the dear Sacred Heart Convent when it flourished in the Boulevard des Invalides--her roommate up to the day when that institution was forced to leave Paris for less unfriendly fields! "In her uncle's yacht, Deppy--the big one that came to Cowes last year, don't you know?
Of course, you do.

Don't look so dazed.

He's cruising for a couple of months and is to set her down here until the yacht returns from Borneo and the Philippines.

She says she hopes it will be quiet here! Quiet! She _hopes_ it will be _quiet_! Where are the cigarettes, Deppy?
Quick! I must do something devilish.