It is by its very fineness circumscribed--a feminine virtue.

Women understand it and keep it secret.

I flatter myself that I have possessed the high moment, vanished against the noon.

Ah, my dear fellow--" he added, lifting his glass to St.George's smile.
But little Cawthorne--all reality in his heliotrope outing and duck and grey curls--raised a characteristic plaint.
"Oh, but I've done it," he mournfully reviewed.

"When'll I ever be in another island, in front of another vacated throne?
Why didn't I move into the palace, and set up a natty, up-to-date little republic?
I could have worn a crown as a matter of taste--what's the use of a democracy if you aren't free to wear a crown?
And what kind of American am I, anyway, with this undeveloped taste for acquiring islands?
If they ever find this out at the polls my vote'll be challenged.