"My dignity will deign to do anything you suggest, good master
Blackamoor," he answered, but to his heart he whispered that it was
better to humour these strange satellites whose persons he found it
impossible to reconcile with any memories of the real world as he
knew it. The barber bowed deferentially.
"I shall have to trouble you presently with certain small cares of
state," he said.
Villon beamed on him benignly. He was wondering what his
interlocutor was talking about, but he felt that it was the course
of the wise man to betray no wonder. The conditions were, indeed,
bewildering, but also they were not disagreeable, and it was as well
to take them cheerfully.
"No trouble, excellent myrmidon," he answered. "These duties are
pleasures to your true man."
Olivier bowed anew.
"His majesty will probably honour you with his company later."
Villon beamed again, and again his wonder found words which seemed
to him to make the most and the best of the situation. Perhaps in
this singular region of dreams he was the king's man and the king's
friend. At least it could do no harm to assume such friendship when
his solemn companion seemed to take it for granted.
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