"Thad a liddle Eengleesh-she-devil-child should strike a Hohenzollern!" Moved by his emotion, Pollyooly looked at him in anxious surprise: "It's all right," she said in a soothing voice.

"You don't know how to manage him.

He'll go like a lamb." Her surmise (it could have been no more than a surmise) proved accurate.

The prince went blubbering, but he went like a lamb.
It might be supposed that his proud, Hohenzollern blood would have boiled for hours at the blow.

Nothing of the kind.
After a hearty lunch he rose and said firmly: "I'm going to blay wiz Bollyooly." He went.