DOI Artikel:
Harland, Henry: The invisible prince
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26393#0063
The Invisible Prince
By Henry Harland
at a masked ball given by the Countess Wohenhoffen, in
J \ Vienna, during carnival week, a year ago, a man draped in
the embroidered silks of a Chinese mandarin, his features entirely
concealed by an enormous Chinese head in cardboard, was standing
in the Wintergarten, the big, dimly lighted conservatory, near the
door of one of the gilt-and-white reception rooms, rather a stolid-
seeming witness of the multi-coloured romp within, when a voice
behind him said, “ How do you do, Mr. Field ? ”—a woman’s
voice, an English voice.
The mandarin turned round.
From a black mask, a pair of blue-grey eyes looked into his
broad, bland Chinese visage ; and a black domino dropped him an
extravagant little courtesy.
“ How do you do ? ” he responded. “ Fm afraid I’m not Mr.
Field ; but I’ll gladly pretend I am, if you’ll stop and talk with
me. I was dying for a little human conversation.”
“ Oh, you’re afraid you’re not Mr. Field, are you ? ” the mask
replied derisively. “Then why did you turn when I called his
name ? ”
“You mustn’t hope to disconcert me with questions like that,”
said he. “ I turned because I liked your voice.”
He
By Henry Harland
at a masked ball given by the Countess Wohenhoffen, in
J \ Vienna, during carnival week, a year ago, a man draped in
the embroidered silks of a Chinese mandarin, his features entirely
concealed by an enormous Chinese head in cardboard, was standing
in the Wintergarten, the big, dimly lighted conservatory, near the
door of one of the gilt-and-white reception rooms, rather a stolid-
seeming witness of the multi-coloured romp within, when a voice
behind him said, “ How do you do, Mr. Field ? ”—a woman’s
voice, an English voice.
The mandarin turned round.
From a black mask, a pair of blue-grey eyes looked into his
broad, bland Chinese visage ; and a black domino dropped him an
extravagant little courtesy.
“ How do you do ? ” he responded. “ Fm afraid I’m not Mr.
Field ; but I’ll gladly pretend I am, if you’ll stop and talk with
me. I was dying for a little human conversation.”
“ Oh, you’re afraid you’re not Mr. Field, are you ? ” the mask
replied derisively. “Then why did you turn when I called his
name ? ”
“You mustn’t hope to disconcert me with questions like that,”
said he. “ I turned because I liked your voice.”
He