“Why don't we just forget all about it?” she asked tenderly. And he'd known that she was the kindest person in the world. As well as the prettiest.

He could see Aunt Gertrude now, her pixie face with its halo of soft blond hair, so like the waitress's. There could be no doubt about it. Impossible as it seemed, this was a member of the Ellurian royal dynasty, bearing the family face down through the generations.

His rudeness hadn't fazed her, and he had to give her high marks for her patience and self-control. But oh, her voice! Her laugh! Her way of calling him “love”! And this woman was the rightful monarch of Elluria! He could have wept for his country.

She returned with a plate of pie and peas.

“Sit down,” he said, indicating the seat opposite. She gave him a wary look and he nodded. “I'm not consistent, am I? But I'm a stranger here and I'd like to talk.”

“All right,” she sat down with a sigh of relief.

“It must be a hard job,” he said sympathetically.

She groaned. “Tell me about it!” Then she laughed. “But I enjoy it. You meet people.”

“Do you live on the premises? I understand you're the manageress.”

She giggled. “Manageress! Honestly! That's just one of Jack's harmless daydreams, like calling this place The Grand. I mean, look at it. He's a sweet old boy, but you've got to admit it's hilarious.”

Randolph, who was feeling anything but amused, agreed that it was.

“So you don't live here?” he continued valiantly.

“I've got a room a few streets away.”

“You're not married?” Randolph asked cautiously. He no longer dared rely on any of Sigmund's information.

“Not yet, but Mike and I will be setting the day soon. That's him, over there.”

Randolph followed her gaze to the stocky young man who was just coming through the door. From his stained overalls he seemed to be a mechanic. He waved at Dottie, then settled down in a corner table.