"I think not, for I have already aroused your deepest interest in my unfortunate position."
"Indeed!"
"Certainly; because one is implicated whom," Monsieur Roché glanced into my face and smiled, "you esteem and admire."
"I repeat that you are a poor diplomat," I cried, angrily, "and I will prove it. Because you have chosen to insult my friend, because you have chosen to insinuate that he is a traitor and a thief, I renounce my position. I refuse this commission and all others, and I have the honor to wish you good-day and good-bye. Now, monsieur, have I proved that you are a poor diplomat? A child in what you count yourself a master?"
I had risen, and stood looking down upon him, and I felt there was a tinge of scorn and perhaps contempt in my glance, but he took my hand and gently drew me down to the lounge beside him.
"You have only proved," he said, "what a woman's true regard is worth. Mon Dieu! how could any man be a traitor whom you have placed so high in your esteem?"
"Then I have misunderstood you," I quickly answered. "I take back to myself all that I have said. I become a penitent, I accept this and all other commissions, and think you, monsieur, absolutely the best and nicest man in Paris."
He looked at me with almost a twinkle in his eyes, and then, "Am I not a good diplomat?" he mildly interjected.
"You are a most unscrupulous politician," I answered. "You never suspected Gaspard?"
"Never. I was merely quickening your interest in the position. Am I not a good diplomat?"