sination, to-morrow an insurrection. Last year we had a fellow suspected of anarchism, a Belgian who lived in the most extraordinary manner—in a wooden stockade which he built for himself. And there he was visited by the most singular people, the most outlandish in dress! We felt sure we had discovered a hotbed of sedition, and took measures to surprise it, with the result that it turned out to be a gallery for taking views for the cinematograph. Yes, sir! And such views! I had him indicted for an assault upon morality; but we have preserved the films. If some day your Highness would like to arrange a little entertainment for your friends, I should be delighted to lend them to you.
Prince Michael. Thank you, but I should not care to be surprised in a conspiracy of that nature.
Signore. In my entire career I have never been guilty of a single indiscretion.
Prince Michael. You must have seen a great deal.
Signore. I hold the key to a whole cabinet of mysteries. For the most part, people know as much about life as they do about the theatre—they see the play, that is all; the real show goes on behind the scenes.
Prince Michael. By the way, that reminds me; Prince Florencio
Signore. Oh! I have him always under my eye! At times it is difficult; that Englishman knows some remarkable places. And what people! He would have made a good Prefect.
Prince Michael. No, you are quite inimitable.
Signore. Inimitable? Am I not? I should like to see what this Babel would be without me, although upon the surface everything appears so quiet and so calm. The difficulty in my profession is not to inform myself about my business; it is to prevent myself from becoming informed
