Having made up his mind, it was not long before the energetic Count summoned the young Italian to a private interview in the Winter Palace. As on the previous occasion, the same tall stranger was present, lounging about the room—the stranger in whom Nello was later on to discover the Czar of all the Russias.
Golitzine did not introduce them, but he made a brief allusion. “We are going to have a rather confidential conversation, Signor, but you can speak freely before this gentleman. He is perfectly in my confidence.”
Nello bowed, feeling a little embarrassed. He would have been more at his ease if the tall stranger had not been present.
The Count proceeded in his smooth, conciliatory accents. “I hear very flattering accounts, so far, of your directorship. You have excited less envy than I expected, under the rather unusual circumstances. And you have also won some golden opinions. I am told that Madame Quéro, in particular, has distinguished you with a somewhat marked friendship. And she is reported to be a rather difficult woman to get on with. I know our late Director found her so, to his frequent annoyance.”
Nello blushed deeply. He was very sensitive, and it vexed him to find that his friendship with the handsome Spanish woman had been already commented on. If these comments had reached Golitzine, they had probably also reached the Princess Zouroff and her daughter.
“The relations between Madame Quéro and myself are, I am pleased to say, most cordial. Being the most distinguished member of the company, as she certainly is, it insures smooth working all round,” answered the young Italian.
“Quite, quite,” assented the suave Count. “Of course you have many opportunities of meeting and chatting. I hear that our friend, Prince Zouroff, is much chagrined that the charming lady in question is friendly with you. You have met the Prince, I presume. I should like to know your real opinion—of course in the strictest confidence.”
The flush on Corsini’s face deepened. He had met the Prince now on several occasions at different houses in the city, and that arrogant nobleman had always treated him with marked hauteur, hardly taking the trouble to acknowledge his polite salutation.
“I should say, your Excellency, that he is sadly deficient in the common courtesies of life.”
There was a subdued laugh from the man in civilian clothes, standing in the bay window. He turned round for a second and exchanged a meaning glance with the Count. Golitzine knew what that glance was intended to convey. “There was no love lost between these two.”