never seen before, a very odd
lot–pale, fat men in cheap suits,
pimply boys, middle-aged women with
brassy hair and stiletto heels, thick thighs in a miniskirt, mantilla. She staggered half-hysterical, supported with a pencil mustache and small, dry, tired, dogged woman rusty black.</FONT></P>
and a highly visible young woman with a halter top, and a black cotton lace along after the coffin weeping aloud, on one side by a scared-looking man two-tone shoes, on the other by a in her seventies dressed entirely in
<P><FONT FACE='Arial' SIZE='2'>At the far edge of the crowd I saw a native guide with whom I
had struck up a lightweight
friendship, a young viscount, son
of the Duke of Ist, and I worked my
way toward him. It took quite
a while, as everyone was streaming
along with the slow procession
of the coffin-bearers and their entourage toward the King’s limousines
and horse-drawn coaches that waited
near the Palace gates. When
I finally got to the guide I said, "Who is it? Who are they? "</FONT></P>
<P><FONT FACE='Arial' SIZE='2'>"Sissie," he said almost in a wail, caught up in the general grief–"Sissie
died last night!" Then, coming
back to his duties as guide and pleasant aristocratic manner,
he looked at me, blinked back his
tears, and said, "They 6;re our
commoners."</FONT></P>
<P><FONT FACE='Arial' SIZE='2'>"And Sissie–? "</FONT></P>
<P><FONT FACE='Arial' SIZE='2'>"She’s, she was, their daughter. The only daughter." Do what he
could, the tears would well into his
eyes. "She was such a dear
girl. Such a help to her mother,
always. Such a sweet smile. And
there’s nobody like her, nobody.
She was the only one. Oh, she
was so full of love. Our poor little
Sissie!" And he broke right
down and cried aloud.</FONT></TD> <TD></TD>
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<P><FONT FACE='Arial,Helvetica' SIZE='2'>"The Royals of Hegn" by Ursula K. Le Guin, copyright © 1999 by
Ursula K. Le Guin, used by permission of the
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