"An oath to support the Constitution of the United States does not bind the man who takes it to support an administration elected by a mob whose purpose is to subvert the Constitution!"
"Oh,—I see," was the quiet response.
"You speak English with perfection, Signor!" Jennie said with a smile.
"Yes, Mad'moiselle, I've spent my life in the Diplomatic service."
He bowed gravely, lifted his head and caught the smile on the lips of the Secretary of War standing in the shadows of the doorway of the Diplomatic gallery.
The stately figure of John C. Breckinridge, the Vice-President, suddenly mounted the dais and his piercing eyes swept the assembly. He rapped for order and the silence which followed was as the hush of death.
"The curtain rises on our drama, Mad'moiselle," the smooth even voice said.
"Sh!" the girl whispered.