Jesson smiled.
"To be perfectly frank," he said, "because you are developing an interest in the one person in the world who might give success over into our hands. It is necessary for you to remain where you can encourage that interest."
Nigel was a little staggered.
"My friendship with Mademoiselle Karetsky," he protested, "is scarcely likely to influence her political views."
"I am a somewhat close observer," Jesson continued. "You will not ask me to believe that your conversation with mademoiselle in her box at the Opera last night related all the time to—well, shall we say music?"
"Nigel, you never told me you were at the Opera," Maggie intervened. "What made you go?"
"I think that it was a message from Mademoiselle Karetsky," Jesson suggested quietly.
Nigel smiled.
"Upon my word, I think you're going to be a success, Jesson," he declared. "Perhaps you can tell me what we did talk about?"
"I believe I almost could," was the calm reply. "In any case, I think I see the situation as it exists. Mademoiselle Karetsky is a wonderful woman. She has a great, open mind. To a certain extent, of course, she has seen things from the point of view of Paul Matinsky, Immelan, and that little coterie of Russo-Germans who see a future for both countries only in an alliance of the old-fashioned order. Matinsky, however, has always had his doubts. That is why he sent over here the one person whom he trusted. Presently she will make a report, and the whole issue will remain with her. Immelan knows this and pays her ceaseless court. My impression, however, is that his influence is waning. I believe that to-day he is terrified at the bare reflection of how much Naida Karetsky knows."