"You put things very clearly," he said. "To-day in England is certainly the day of the shopkeeper's triumph. Wealth is a great thing, but it is great only for what it leads to. I think your philosopher of the streets, your new school of politicians, have alike forgotten that."
"You have lost sympathy with England, have you not, Prince Shan?" Maggie asked him.
He turned towards her, a faint but kindly smile upon his lips, a light in his eyes which she did not altogether understand.
"Lady Maggie," he said quietly, "they tell me that you are interested in the political side of my visit to this country."
"Who tells you that?" she demanded. "What have I to do with politics?"
"You have been gifted with great intelligence," he continued, "and you are the confidante of your connection, Lord Dorminster. Lord Dorminster is one of those few Englishmen who realise the ill direction of the destinies of this country. You would like to help him in his present very strenuous efforts to ascertain the truth as to certain movements directed against the British Empire. That is so, is it not?"
"In plain words, you are accusing me of being a spy."
"Ah, no!" he protested gently. "No one can be a spy in one's own country. You are within your rights as a patriot in seeking to discover whatever may be useful knowledge to the English Government. That, I fear, is one reason for your kindness to me, Lady Maggie. I trust that it is not the only reason."
She knew better than to make the mistake of denial. After all, it was an absurdly unequal contest.
"It is not the only reason," she assured him, a little tremulously.