And there in front of me was the chubby form of Gussie Gormsley, son of a newspaper magnet. He was the closest thing to a playboy with whom I had ever been involved and I remembered that I had encountered Prince George at one of his naughty parties with a Negro jazz band playing and cocaine being snorted in the kitchen. As he approached I also remembered he had tried to seduce me once. Obviously he had forgotten the circumstances in which we parted because he was beaming. “Hello, Gussie,” I said. “Let me introduce my table companions. Your Royal Highness, may I present Augustus Gormsley.”

Gussie obviously recognized her and went rather pale. “Frightfully sorry to barge in on you, Your Royal Highness,” he said. “Damned bad form.”

“Not at all. I’m pleased to meet Georgiana’s friends and the London smart set.”

Before Gussie could inform Marina that I was certainly not part of any London smart set, I said, “Augustus’s father owns newspapers and magazines and Gussie is very much a young man about town.”

“Not for much longer, old thing.” Gussie made a face. “Haven’t you heard? I’m getting married. Finally getting hitched. What a blow to the womanhood of the nation, eh?”

“Congratulations, Gussie,” I said. “Who are you marrying?”

“You know her. Primrose Asquey d’Asquey. She was at school with you.”

“But I went to her wedding a couple of years ago,” I said. “Didn’t she marry Roland Aston-Poley?”

“Only lasted a few months,” he said. “Marriage was doomed from the start, wasn’t it? I mean, Asquey d’Asquey becoming Roley Poley? Hopeless. And of course he had a severe gambling problem, didn’t he? And drank like a fish and got very maudlin when in his cups.”

“Please give my very best to Primrose,” I said. “I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

“And may I extend my best wishes for your happiness, Your Highness,” Gussie said. “I’m a pal of your future husband. Jolly nice chap, old George. Ripping fun.”

Marina smiled politely.

“What does the prince like to rip?” Irmtraut asked. “He has fun ripping paper or fabric?”

Gussie stared as if he had just noticed her.

“No, it’s just a word. Just like ‘smashing’ doesn’t mean actually smashing anything.”

“This English language is very peculiar,” Irmtraut said.

“Oh, you’ll get the hang of it,” Gussie said.

“Hang?”

Oh golly. This could go on for hours. I realized I hadn’t introduced them either. Irmtraut would not like that. “Gussie, this is Countess Irmtraut von Dinkelfingen-Hackensack,” I said. “A cousin of the princess.”

“How do you do?” Irmtraut nodded in regal fashion.

“Absolutely tickety-boo, thanks,” Gussie said.

“Gussie, our meal is getting cold,” I said, before I had to explain to Irmtraut what “tickety-boo” might mean.