'Don't misrepresent him; don't make him out what you know he's not!' the Princess retorted, with her baffling smile. 'You know he's one of the most civilised people possible.'
The fiddler sat breathing unhappily. 'I only want to keep him—to get him free.' Then he added, 'I don't understand you very well. If you like him because he's one of the lower orders, how can you like him because he's a swell?'
The Princess turned her eyes on the fire a moment, as if this little problem might be worth considering, and presently she answered, 'Dear Mr. Vetch, I am very sure you don't mean to be impertinent, but some things you say have that effect. Nothing is more annoying than when one's sincerity is doubted. I am not bound to explain myself to you. I ask of my friends to trust me, and of the others to leave me alone. Moreover, anything not very nice you may have said to me, out of awkwardness, is nothing to the insults I am perfectly prepared to see showered upon me before long. I shall do things which will produce a fine crop of them—oh, I shall do things, my dear sir! But I am determined not to mind them. Come, therefore, pull yourself together. We both take such an interest in young Robinson that I can't see why in the world we should quarrel about him.'
'My dear lady,' the old man pleaded, 'I have indeed not the least intention of failing in respect or courtesy, and you must excuse me if I don't look after my manners. How can I when I am so worried, so haunted? God knows I don't want to quarrel. As I tell you, I only want to get Hyacinth free.'
