An American Opinion of European Morals
"I tell you fellows for the last time," Lord Vernon was saying, "that we can't keep this thing up any longer. Miss Rushford has served notice on me that she's going to tell, and dashed if I blame her. Besides, there's the note."
"The note can't hurt us—I've extracted its sting. As for Miss Rushford, I might see her again," suggested Collins, who had been pacing nervously up and down the room.
"See her? Nonsense! You'll do nothing of the sort! What right have we to bother her? She'd probably send you about your business, anyway. She's got a heart—something that diplomats know nothing about and never take into account."
"We didn't take it into account in your case, that's true!" retorted
Collins, with covert irony.
"No, you didn't!" said the other, wheeling short around upon him. "Nor did I take into account what a damned scoundrelly thing it was I was persuaded into undertaking. I tell you, some of us will have to get down and eat dirt before this thing is over!"
"Pshaw!" and Collins smiled loftily. "Before a petty German princeling?"
Vernon turned red with anger at the words, but as he opened his mouth to reply, there came a sharp knock at the door.
"Come in!" he shouted, before the others could draw breath. "No, I'm not going to hide!" he added, in answer to Collins's gesture. "That farce is finished!"
The door opened and Monsieur Pelletan appeared on the threshold.