The Short Reign of Pippin IV by John Steinbeck Page B

true also? And therefore it is not so important to the state who noblewomen marry? Is that so?”
    Pippin nodded approvingly. “You have read properly. That is true up to a point. But in one place you are in error, and this has nothing to do with the Salic Law. Women of great houses have always been used as magnets for other great houses, along with their lands and their holdings and their titles.”
    â€œKind of catalysts for mergers,” Tod suggested.
    Uncle Charlie broke in. “The Salic Law is not a law. It is only a custom brought to us by Germans. Don’t give it a thought.”
    Pippin said, “My uncle, by your definition our ancestors were Germans too—Héristal, Arnulf.” He turned back to Tod. “My young friend, I don’t know what the decision will be about succession. Clotilde is my only child. I am not prepared to divorce my wife for the sake of an heir, and my wife has passed—But you understand. It is quite possible that public pressure may force Clotilde to be a breeding ground for kings. Custom, particularly meaningless custom, is generally more powerful than law. Would you be content to leave the—the powder untaken until we see? By the way, does this refer to gunpowder, or to medicinal powder?”
    â€œDarned if I know,” said Tod. “The only people who try to find out what slang means are the ones who can’t use it. You mean, sir, that I should stick around a while?”
    â€œExactly,” said the king. “You see, a second function of nice-looking noblewomen was to bring money into the family.”
    â€œIf you’re thinking of Petaluma, forget it,” said Tod. “If I know my father, he’ll have it tied up in trust funds and things.”
    â€œBut you see,” said Uncle Charlie, “his reputation for having it will make you not an undesirable suitor. The French resent more than anything else being fools. Marrying a rich man, no matter what the drawbacks, has never been considered foolish in France.”
    â€œI see. You’re covering for me. Thanks. Make me kind of like part of the family—for a while, at least. That’s why I asked in the first place. I know you’re the king and you’re older than I am but you haven’t had much practice kinging. You’ve got a great little thing here, great, but it can blow up in your face if you don’t play your cards right.”
    â€œThis has happened in the past,” said Pippin. “And not so very long ago either.”
    â€œI’d like to talk to you about that, sir, now that I’m a—you might say apprentice—member of the family.”
    Clotilde cried, “Nots! Politics. You are a droopys. I am a bore.”
    Tod laughed shortly. “Maybe she’s right,” he said. “They say that Americans talk sex in the office and business in the bedroom. I’ll take her out violin-dodging, but I would like to talk to you.”
    â€œI should be glad,” said Pippin. “Will you come to Versailles?”
    â€œI’ve been out there,” said Tod. “It’s crawling with freeloaders. Tell you what, sir. Why don’t you come to my suite at the George Cinq?”
    The king said, “One of the drawbacks of my office is that I can’t go where I wish. The management would have to be told, the secret police, the newspapers privately informed. Your suite would be searched and men placed on the roofs across the way. It’s not very much fun to be royalty.”
    Tod said, “Not at the George Cinq. There hasn’t been a Frenchman there in years. Besides, Ava Gardner and H. R. H. Kelly are in residence. You couldn’t raise an eyebrow. It might be the most private place in France for a French king.”
    â€œPerhaps so,” said Pippin. “I have even thought of disguises.”
    â€œMy God,” Uncle Charlie said, “you’d be so bad at it. You have