“And to-night I have invited you here, my dear friend, to arrive at some amicable agreement that will be to our mutual advantage,” answered the clever Under-Secretary, with a suavity of manner which showed him to be a born diplomat.
“Yes, I know,” answered the other in a dry, hard voice. “This is not the first time you and I have discussed matters, General Borselli. I know that if it suited you you’d betray your own mother. You have no conscience, no code of honour?”
“My code of honour is exactly the same as yours, caro mio,” replied the Italian, laughing. “I try to turn all I can into profit for myself, just as you are trying to do. My maxim is ‘self first.’”
“And for that reason you are plotting the downfall of Morini and the whole Ministry!”
“A work in which you are actively assisting,” added the Under-Secretary.
“I did not come here to be insulted,” Dubard protested.
“Neither did I invite you here to pose as a censor of political morality,” responded his shrewd companion, looking straight and determinedly into his pale face. “But why should we quarrel, when it is to our mutual interests to remain friendly?”
“I have not quarrelled. Last night you objected to me visiting the Morinis.”
“Because I am well aware of your object.”
“I admit that I intend to marry Mary,” and he removed his cigar from his mouth and examined it.