At that moment one of the men at the table whispered something to her and she went into peals of laughter. It was a delightful sound, rich and resonant, full of the joy of life. But princesses did not laugh in that unrestrained way.

She scurried over to Randolph, and sat down at the chair opposite with a sigh of relief. “Okay if I sit down to take your order? It's been a long day and my feet are killing me.”

A flash of inspiration came to Randolph. He assumed an air of hauteur to say, “As a matter of fact, it's not 'Okay.”'

She rose at once. “All right, all right, keep your hair on.”

“Keep-my-hair-on?” he echoed in bewilderment, feeling the top of his head. “Are you impertinent enough to suggest that I'm wearing a wig?”

Again her laughter bubbled up. “Blimey no! It's just an expression. It means don't get worked up. Keep your hair on.”

“But why hair?”

“I don't know. It's just, well, you're not English, are you?”

“Is that a crime?” he asked sternly.

“No, it's just that it's an English expression and, well, you're not English, so you don't understand it.” She made a wry face. “I think I've said enough.”

“More than enough,” he said coldly. “Now, if you don't mind, I should like something to eat.”

“Sausage and beans? Sausage and fries? Sausage and bacon? Sausage and eggs?”

“Do you do anything that doesn't come with sausage?”

“Hamburger with beans? Hamburger with fries, ham-”

“Thank you, I get the picture,” he said hastily. “You'll pardon me for saying that the cuisine hardly lives up to the place's name.”

“Cuisine? Oh, posh food. No love, nothing posh about us.”

“So I gather,” he murmured heavily.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Down here it says 'liver and bacon'-”

“Sorry, liver's off. It's the end of the day. We ran out an hour ago.”

“Rabbit stew?”