"That seems to sound all right," he said; "but it doesn't remove the lover." The good-humored scepticism at last forced a way to Billy's susceptibilities.
"Look here," he said, crossly, "if hearing's not believing, perhaps seeing is! Look at these pictures; they're not particularly modern or banal." He held out his paper, but Blake shook his head.
"No! No, Billy, not for me.

If it was some little Rumanian gypsy who had run away from her tribe I'd take her to my heart and welcome.

But a Princess Davorska--no!" At this point McCutcheon stretched out his long arm and took the paper from Billy's hand.

"Let's have a squint!" he said.

"Lover or no lover, she must be a bit wide awake." And, curling himself up again, he began to read from the paper, in a monotonous murmuring voice: "'_The Princess, as well as being a woman of artistic accomplishments, is an ardent sportswoman, having in her early girlhood hunted and shot with keen zest on her father's estates.