"In what capacity?"
Brett reflected for a moment before replying.
"It would best suit my purpose if I met him as a political sympathiser."
Gaultier evidently did not like the idea. Foreign Office messengers do not care to be associated with politics in any shape or form.
"Is there no other way?" he asked dubiously.
"Plenty," said Brett. "I might pose as a friend of yours interested in Turkish carpets, or coffee, or cigarettes, but for the purpose of my inquiry it would be well to jump preliminaries at once and make this chance acquaintance under the guise of a wire-puller."
"All right," said Gaultier. "I don't see that it matters much to me, and the letter you have in your possession from the Under-Secretary is sufficient warrant for me to give you any assistance that lies in my power."
He glanced at his watch. "It is just about time for déjeûner," he continued. "What do you say if we drive to the Rue Barbette at once?"
The barrister assented, and they were soon crossing Paris with the superb disregard for other people's feelings that characterises the local cab-driver.
"By the way," inquired Gaultier, "have you learned anything else since your arrival?"