“Our admirable young diplomatist!” whispered the young man. “Well, Madrid is not a very safe place for him.”
“But he is in no danger to-night I take it?” came back the answer in a whisper as low as his own.
“I should say not. For the present, we have left him out of our calculations; we are flying at higher game. He will hardly come within the sphere of Valerie’s operations. His Chief may—I doubt even that.”
Mrs Hargrave made no comment. Presently Moreno spoke in the same low whisper.
“You have no great affection for Mr Rossett, I take it?”
“No, I have not any great affection for Mr Rossett.”
“And yet you were once very good friends.”
Mrs Hargrave stiffened a little. “You seem to know a great deal of my private affairs. Yes, we once were very good friends. He knew my husband long before I married him. I fancy I have told you that.”
Moreno was not to be daunted by her aloof attitude. He was never wanting in enterprise.
“I should not be surprised if, at the present moment, you hated him.”