'I wish I could have told the Queen myself.
I'm sure she would have been sympathetic.

And now I don't suppose I shall ever meet her again.' He rejoined with clumsy sarcasm.
'I see.

The Queen of Hartenburg was an intimate friend of yours--the sort of chum who'd have been likely to drop in any day for a yarn and a cup of tea!' 'She often did when she hunted with our hounds in Ireland, and it IS true that the Queen of Hartenburg was quite an intimate friend of mine--for two winters, anyhow.

But I assure you, it hasn't made me proud, and if the Queen of Hartenburg bores you, let us talk of something else.' She gave another glance at the last sheet of Lady Gaverick's letter and thrust it into a pigeon-hole of the writing-table, then came back to the long settee on which he sat.

All the time, his gaze had never left her.