Maggie leaned back in her chair with a little sigh of content.

The scarlet-coated waiter had just removed their tea tray, a pleasant breeze was rustling through the leaves of the trees under which she and Prince Shan were seated.

From the distance came the low strains of a military band.

Everywhere on the lawns and along the paths men and women were promenading.
"Confess that this is better than Rumpelmayer's or the Ritz," she murmured lazily.
"It is better," he admitted.

"It is a very wonderful place." "You have nothing like it in China ?" she asked him.
"It would not be possible," he answered.