I. A. R. Wylie

“ George persisted, and then with a solemn gesture directed at Susan—"Remember!"
Susan kissed her hand by way of response, and the next minute the contents of the potato tub swept down upon the intruder. Susan screamed, then as George, shaking himself free of the deluge, retired out of range, burst into a stream of tears.
"You don't know what you've done!" she sobbed. "He's a gentleman—a real count in disguise."
"Bah!" Monsieur Bonnet snapped his fingers after the retreating George. "'E is a liar in no disguise at all. Foolish misguided woman!" ”

“ There was something about you that told me that you was meant for a higher destiny."
"Now you're talking," said Susan. "You're only a sort of waiter yourself. Monsieur Bonnet is just as good as your boss any day."
"If you mean the Count de Beaulieu, you're off the track," George observed mysteriously. "To the world we may seem as master and man but trust me, there is more between us than meets the eye." ”

“ George asserted.
From that moment five brown-coated potatoes lay sorrowful and neglected at the bottom of the pan whilst Susan soared through realms where dukes and lords, not to mention counts, are supposed to flourish in delightful superabundance. She planted her elbows on the window-sill and gazed up into her companion's face.
"You go on!" she pleaded. "I won't tell!"
Thereupon George folded his arms, and his expression grew sombrely mysterious.
"Aristocrats have to play strange parts in the world's history," he began. ”