[…] they had marched past Poincaré at Peterhof, the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich stepping it out on the right flank with his perfect martial bearing and an air of desperate bravery about him, saluting and giving this honored guest eyes right.

He adjusted to domesticated life remarkably well, retaining his regal feral “cattitude.”

It was a housewife, containing needles, a bodkin, and thread; ‘and, do you know,’ added he, ‘it was the most useful thing she could have given me, for it lasted all the time I was at Rome to mend my clothes with […] .’

“That's right,” answered Veronica, lightly brushing a few remaining crumbs from off of her tangerine brocade morning coat.