“Of course—but in what way?”
“We are preparing to place the king back on his throne.”
She shrugged sceptically.
“And I take it for granted,” went on the baron, with a sudden unveiling of his eyes, “that you would not be sorry to see Jeneski punished—his work undone, his dream broken.”
Her face was livid as she returned his look.
“Yes,” she said thickly, “I should be glad of that.”
“I thought so,” said the baron, and polished his glass abstractedly.
“But it is impossible.”
“It is not impossible—it is all but arranged. One little impulse more and it is done. You will supply that impulse.”
“I warn you,” said the countess, “that I shall have to know everything before I consent.”