The lady, called by her intimate friends Nita, stopped at the end of the crowded path which leads to the bandstand.
“Mary, I do not think you need come any farther. Take a park chair and wait for me. I may be an hour—I may be longer. If you see me with—with the gentleman, you will not recognise me by a sign.”
“Yes, mademoiselle.”
“If you think I am being followed, then you may warn me. But I do not think that is likely. M. Goucouldis has no idea that—er—the Prince has any entanglements. But if it should be so that I am watched, then very likely his—agents—will try to get into touch with you. In that case you will tell them that I am Mademoiselle Lemair from Paris. That I am the daughter of M. Lemair, the leader of the Popular Party of Sergovia. If your questioner has a fit at this, send for a policeman: I understand that the English police are trained in first aid.”
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