He argued--with unofficial and somewhat personal authority,--that a man who could trade his only child for selfish ends might also be impelled to sacrifice his country's interests without cramping his conscience.
The Countess was alone in the long, warm-tinted library.

She stood before the dying embers in the huge old fireplace, her foot upon one of the great iron dogs.

Her smiling face was turned toward the door as he entered.
"It is good of you to come," she said, as they shook hands warmly.

"Do you know it is almost a year since you last came to this house ?" "It would be a century, Countess, if I were not welcomed in other houses where I am sure of a glimpse of you from time to time and a word now and then.

Still, a year's a year.