"My dear Julien!"
The Duchess was very impressive indeed. From the depths of an easy-chair in her sitting-room at the Ritz Hotel she held out both her hands, and in her eyes was that peculiar strained look which Julien had only been privileged to observe once or twice in his life. It indicated, or rather it was the Duchess's substitute for, emotion. Julien at once perceived, therefore, that this was an occasion.
"First of all," she went on, motioning him to a chair, "first of all, before I say a single word about this strange thing which has brought me to Paris, let me congratulate you. I always knew, dear Julien, that you would do something, that you would not allow yourself to be altogether crushed by the machinations of that hateful woman."
"Really," Julien began, "I am not quite sure—"
"I mean your letters, of course," she interrupted. "The Duke, when he finished the first one, said only one thing—'Wonderful!' That is just how we all feel about them, Julien. I met Lord Cardington only a few hours before I left London, and he was absolutely enthusiastic. 'If one thing,' he said, 'will save the country, it is this splendid attack upon the new diplomacy!'—as you so cleverly called it. The Duke tells me that that first article of yours is to be printed as a leaflet and distributed throughout the country."
"I am very glad," Julien said, "to hear all this. Tell me, what brings you to Paris? Is the Duke with you?"
The Duchess smiled at him reproachfully.
"You ask me what brings me to Paris, Julien? Come, come! You and I mustn't begin like that. I want you to tell me at once where she is."
"Where who is?"
"Anne, of course! Please don't play with me. Consider what a terrible time we have all been through."