Allard surveyed the lean and suave diplomat with his usual antagonism, but moved toward a chair instead of adopting the hint to retire.
"I am here for the same reason, Baron," he explained. "A wonderful day we have had, have we not?"
"Wonderful, indeed," Dalmorov conceded viciously. "But the ides of March have not gone, monsieur."
"What a suggestion for our young Cæsar!" Allard deprecated. "Whom do you imagine as Brutus, Baron, in our peaceful Empire?"
"You misunderstood; I only pointed out the uncertainty of building upon one day."
Anxiety for Stanief stabbed Allard, always and only for Stanief. Yet his answer was light and sympathetic:
"Has to-day disappointed you? So sorry, chèr Baron."
"No, monsieur; for the event of the day I shall most enjoy is just about to take place."
"And my presence threatens to postpone it? It is too bad I can not do as you suggested, and leave."
"Not at all; it will increase my pleasure to have you here, Monsieur Allard. Meanwhile, the favor of princes is uncertain, and a frail shield."