Prince Pavle of Yugoslavia is a figure both unique, and uniquely tragic, in modern Serb history. His was the story of a perennial outsider: a sophisticated art-lover thrust into the murky world of Balkan politics; an incorrigible Anglophile forced into unsavoury deals with England’s enemies; a gentleman in the world of perfidious rogues. At a personal level it would be interesting to trace the development of this abandoned child, from the loveless austerity of his uncle Prince Petar Karadordevic’s all-male household in Geneva to the quiet self-confidence of a cosmopolitan aesthete moulded in the best tradition of Europe’s upper crust. The Entente in World War I did not envisage the creation of Yugoslavia. Until the very end, there was no intention even to dismember the Habsburg Monarchy. Prince Pavle was not only too young, but also too emotionally detached to be involved in the process of Serbia’s unprecedented self-liquidation in the name of Yugoslav integralism.