But Mistral had little time to take in the details of her surroundings. She only knew that the atmosphere was peaceful and unfrightening and she could relax in the arm chair to which the Prince escorted her. At his command a servant knelt to set light to the fire already laid in the fireplace.
‘You will feel cold,’ the Prince said. ‘One always does when one has lost blood. And before we do anything else, we must wash that hand. If there is dirt in it, it may go septic.’
Mistral managed to smile at the seriousness of his voice.
‘How do you know all these things?’ she asked.
‘Mostly because I have hurt myself so often,’ the Prince replied. ‘I have had at least a dozen accidents while skiing and I would hate to count how many times I have come to grief out hunting. But before we talk I wo
