“May we ask then,” we resumed, correcting our obvious blunder, “what are your impressions, Prince, of the Atlantic Ocean?”
“Ah,” said the Prince, with that peculiar thoughtfulness which is so noticeable in him and which we observed not once but several times, “the Atlantic!”
Volumes could not have expressed his thought better.
“Did you,” we asked, “see any ice during your passage across?”
“Ah,” said the Prince, “ice! Let me think.”
We did so.
“Ice,” repeated the Prince thoughtfully.
We realized that we were in the presence not only of a soldier, a linguist and a diplomat, but of a trained scientist accustomed to exact research.
“Ice!” repeated the Prince. “Did I see any ice? No.”
Nothing could have been more decisive, more final than the clear, simple brevity of the Prince’s “No.” He had seen no ice. He knew he had seen no ice. He said he had seen no ice. Nothing could have been more straightforward, more direct. We felt assured from that moment that the Prince had not seen any ice.
The exquisite good taste with which the
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