“Then inform the French Ambassador of all the facts and circumstances and retire from the game,” he advised.
“Shall I inform him over the telephone?” she asked.
“You would never get the Ambassador on the telephone, unless you were known to some one of the staff who could vouch for you.”
“I don’t know anyone on the staff, but Mrs. Durrand has likely communicated with the Embassy.”
“If she has, she had given them a minute description of you, yet that can not be used to identify you over the telephone.”
“I hesitate to go to the Embassy without the letter,” she said.
“Why do you hesitate?” he smiled.
“Because I—don’t want to admit defeat.”
“Which of itself will serve to substantiate your story. One skilled in the game would have lost no time in informing the Embassy of the loss of the letter. He would have realized that, next to the letter itself, the news of its seizure was the best thing he could deliver—also, it was his duty to advise the Embassy at the quickest possible moment. You see, dear lady, personal pride and pique play no part in this game. They are not even considered; it’s the execution of the mission that’s the one important thing; all else is made to bend to that single end.”
“Then I should go to the French Embassy tonight with my story?” she asked.