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"I also wanted to ask you," continued Prince Andrew, "if I'm

killed and if I have a son, do not let him be taken away from

you-as I said yesterday... let him grow up with you.... Please."

"Not let the wife have him?" said the old man, and laughed.

They stood silent, facing one another. The old man's sharp eyes

were fixed straight on his son's. Something twitched in the lower

part of the old prince's face.

"We've said good-by. Go!" he suddenly shouted in a loud, angry

voice, opening his door.

"What is it? What?" asked both princesses when they saw for a

moment at the door Prince Andrew and the figure of the old man in

a white dressing gown, spectacled and wigless, shouting in an

angry voice.

Prince Andrew sighed and made no reply.

"Well!" he said, turning to his wife.

And this "Well!" sounded coldly ironic, as if he were saying:

"Now go through your performance."

"Andrew, already!" said the little princess, turning pale and

looking with dismay at her husband.