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THE PRINCESS-2
“ What name?” Fatty queried. “I did not seem quite to catch it.” “ Delarouse, Chauncey Delarouse. The name will serve as well as any.” Both completed the handshake and glanced to Slim. “ Oh, well, while we’re about it . . . ” Fatty urged. “ Bruce Cadogan Cavendish,” Slim growled morosely. “Go on, Percival, with your princesses and the roofs of kings.” “ Oh, I was a rare young devil,” Percival obliged, “after I played ducks and drakes at home and sported out over the world. And I was some figure of a man before I lost my shape—polo, steeple-chasing, boxing. I won medals at buckjumping in Australia, and I held more than several swimming records from the quarter of a mile up. Women turned their heads to look when I went by. The women! God bless them!” And Fatty, alias Perci
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