"The great-grandson of Napoleon! Here! Nothing will ever surprise me again. But why didn't he lay the matter before Killigrew, like a man?"
Fitzgerald patted and poked the wool-filled pillow, but without success. It remained as hard and as uninviting as ever. "I've thought it over, Arthur. I'd have done the same as Breitmann," as if reluctant to give his due to the missing man.
"But why didn't this butterfly man tell the admiral all?"
"He had excellent reasons. He's a secret agent, and has the idea that
Breitmann wants to go into France and make an emperor of himself."
"Do men dream of such things to-day, let alone try to enact them?" incredulously.
"Breitmann's an example."
"Are you taking his part?"
"No, damn him! May I ask you a pertinent question?"
"Yes."
"Did he know Miss von Mitter very well in Munich?"