There is just one thing," she added, "which would break his heart." "And that ?" "The subject upon which you two disagree--a war between Germany and this country." "The Prince is an idealist," Dominey said.

"Sometimes I wonder why he was sent here, why they did not send some one of a more intriguing character." She shrugged her shoulders.
"You agree with that great Frenchman," she observed, "that no ambassador can remain a gentleman--politically." "Well, I have never been a diplomat, so I cannot say," Dominey replied.
"You have many qualifications, I should think," she observed cuttingly.
"Such as ?" "You are absolutely callous, absolutely without heart or sympathy where your work is concerned." "I do not admit it," he protested.
"I go back to London to-morrow," she continued, "a very miserable and unhappy woman.

I take with me the letter which should have brought me happiness.

The love for which I have sacrificed my life has failed me.
Not even the whip of a royal command, not even all that I have to offer, can give me even five seconds of happiness." "All that I have pleaded for," Dominey reminded her earnestly, "is delay." "And what delay do you think," she asked, with a sudden note of passion in her tone, "would the Leopold Von Ragastein of six years ago have pleaded for?
Delay! He found words then which would have melted an iceberg.

He found words the memory of which comes to me sometimes in the night and which mock me.