"There's a romance, Max, but another besides her is concerned, and I
can not tell you. Some day, when everything quiets down, I'll get you
into a corner with a bottle, and you will find it worth while."

"The bottle?"

"Both."

"From rumors I've heard, this princess is a great one for larks; rides
bicycles and automobiles, and generally raises the deuce. What sort is
she?"

"If you are going to remain in Barscheit, my boy, take a friendly
warning. Do not make any foolish attempt to see her. She is more
fascinating than a roulette table."

This was a sly dig. Max smiled. A recent letter from him had told of
an encounter with the goddess of Monte Carlo. Fortune had been all
things but favorable.

"I'm not afraid of your princess; besides, I came here to study."

"And study hard, my boy, study hard. Her Highness is not the only
pretty woman in Barscheit. There's a raft of them."

"I'll paddle close to the shore," with a smile.

"By the way, I'll wake you up Thursday."