If he had expected to surprise my father, he must have felt a poignant disappointment; but perhaps he knew that surprise was a sentiment he seldom permitted.
"I know," replied my father, "that since my arrival here I have been the object of many flattering attentions. But why are you concerned, Jason? I have broken no law of the land. I have merely mixed myself up in French politics."
Uncle Jason made an impatient gesture.
"You have mixed yourself up in such an important affair, in such a ridiculous way, that every secret agent that France has in this country will be in this town in the next twelve hours. That's all you have done, George."
My father tapped his silver snuff box gently.
"I had hoped as much," he remarked blandly. "When one is the center of interest, it is always better to be the very center. You must learn to know me better, Jason, and then you will understand that I always seek two things. I always seek profit and pleasure. It seems as though I should find them both in such pleasant company."
Then, as if the matter were settled, he looked again at the shuttered window, and leaned down to place another log in the fire.
"Come, George," urged my uncle. "Let us be serious. Your nonchalance and irony have been growing with the years. Surely you recognize that you have reached the end of your rope. I tell you, George, these men will stop at nothing."
"Has it ever occurred to you," returned my father, "that I also, may stop at nothing?"
My uncle frowned, and then smiled bleakly.