“To relieve him, tell monsieur of our little arrangement.”
“The letters, monsieur?”
“Yes.”
“Well, my master is kind enough to leave open certain letters. They have been found to be of interest. My pay has been raised. Circumstances make it desirable.”
“What is her name?” said Merton, laughing.
“Louise.”
“What letters, Greville, do you turn over for the recreation and service of the Foreign Office?”
“My uncle’s,” said I, “usually.”
“Ah, I see. The old gentleman’s opinions must be refreshing—authoritative they are, I am sure. When last I saw him he had, as usual, secret intelligence from the army. He always has. I think with joy of the effect of his letters on the young secretaries of the Foreign Office.”
I confessed my own pleasure in the game, and was about to let Alphonse go when Merton said: