Florent retained his seat by the window, composed and grave, pulling at his hat and feather that he held across his knee; his taciturnity seemed to absolve the others from the unusual in leaving him out of their conversation.
“How goes His Highness’ affair in the Assembly?” asked M. Bentinck.
“It was concerning that M. Fagel came this morning——”
“M. Fagel has turned courtier?”
“As have some others—yes!”
M. Bentinck leant back in his chair. His attractive face was thoughtful; he fingered the ribbon on his velvet cuff.
“We received garbled reports in Brandenburg—what do you think, Mr. Bromley, of the chances of war?”
The Englishman shrugged his shoulders.
“De Pomponne hath been withdrawn and no other sent—in spite of M. de Witt’s representations. No concession will pacify King Louis——”
“He cannot forgive the Triple Alliance.”