me. "Write if you 're scattered over Europe by this Russian (I never did believe much in Princesses, excepting, of course, our own dear Royalties), or if you ever come to England. Even if it 's years from now, I assure you Beau and I won't have forgotten you. As for your address ⸺"
"I have n't any," I said. "At present I 'm depending on the Princess for one. She 's at the Hotel Majestic Palace, Cannes; but from what my friend Pam—the Comtesse de Nesle—says, I fancy she does n't stop long in any town. It was the Comtesse de Nesle who got me the place. She 's the only one who knows where I 'm going, because—after a fashion, I 'm running away to be the Princess's companion."
"Running away from the Man?"
"Yes; also from my relatives who 're sure it 's my duty to be his companion. So you see I can't give you their address. I 've ceased to have any right to it. And now I really think I had better go back to bed."
