To his daughter as Princess of Yaque and wife of the
Head of the House of the Litany, this service in the search for the
sovereign and the Hereditary Treasure will be permitted, but she may
serve us only from the throne."
"Upon my soul, then that lets _us_ out," murmured Amory.
And St. George remembered miserably how, in that dingy house in
McDougle Street, he and Olivia had listened once before to the
recital of that law from the prince's lips. If they had known how
next they would hear it! If they had known then what that law would
come to mean to her! What could she do now--what could even Olivia
do now but assent?
She could do a great deal, it appeared. She could incline her head,
with a bewitching droop of eyelids, and look up to meet the eyes of
the prince with a serenity that was like a smile.
"In my country," said Olivia gravely, "when anything special arises
they frequently find that there is no law to cover it. It would seem
to us"--it was as though the humility of that "us" took from her
superb daring--"that this is a matter requiring the advice of the
High Council.
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