The eyes had a timid pleading in them.
Joan laughed.

"I've been feeling as if I were the King of Bavaria," she said.
"How did he feel ?" he asked her, leaning forward.
"He had his own private theatre," Joan explained, "where Wagner gave his operas.

And the King was the sole audience." "I should have hated that," he said, "if I had been Wagner." He looked at her, and a flush passed over his boyish face.
"All right," he said, "if it had been a queen." Joan found herself tracing patterns with her spoon upon the tablecloth.
"But you have won now," she said, still absorbed apparently with her drawing, "you are going to get your chance." He gave a short laugh.

"A trick," he said, "to weaken me.

They think to shave my locks; show me to the people bound by their red tape.