“To the Russian Embassy,” Felix said, “I have some work to do this afternoon.”
Wolfenden looked at him curiously.
“Our ways, then, are the same for a short distance,” he said. “Let us walk together. Forgive me, but you are really, then, attached to the Embassy?”
Felix nodded, and glanced at his companion with a smile.
“I am not what you call a fraud altogether,” he said. “I am junior secretary to Prince Lobenski. You, I think, are not a politician, are you?”
Wolfenden shook his head.
“I take no interest in politics,” he said. “I shall probably have to sit in the House of Lords some day, but I shall be sorry indeed when the time comes.”
Felix sighed, and was silent for a moment.
“You are perhaps fortunate,” he said. “The ways of the politician are not exactly rose-strewn. You represent a class which in my country does not exist. There we are all either in the army, or interested in statecraft. Perhaps the secure position of your country does not require such ardent service?”
“You are—of what nationality, may I ask?” Wolfenden inquired.