ERMYNTRUDE. Well? at least?

THE MANAGER. It is occupied.

ERMYNTRUDE. Don't you dare tell Her Highness a falsehood. It is
not occupied. You are saving it up for the arrival of the
five-fifteen express, from which you hope to pick up some fat
armaments contractor who will drink all the bad champagne in your
cellar at 5 francs a bottle, and pay twice over for everything
because he is in the same hotel with Her Highness, and can boast
of having turned her out of the best rooms.

THE MANAGER. But Her Highness was so gracious. I did not know
that Her Highness was at all particular.

ERMYNTRUDE. And you take advantage of Her Highness's
graciousness. You impose on her with your stories. You give her a
room not fit for a dog. You send cold tea to her by a decayed
professional person disguised as a waiter. But don't think you
can trifle with me. I am a lady's maid; and I know the ladies'
maids and valets of all the aristocracies of Europe and all the
millionaires of America. When I expose your hotel as the
second-rate little hole it is, not a soul above the rank of a
curate with a large family will be seen entering it. I shake its
dust off my feet. Order the luggage to be taken down at once.

THE MANAGER [appealing to the Princess]. Can Your Highness
believe this of me? Have I had the misfortune to offend Your
Highness?