me a shock of surprise, though I knew it well.

Instead of Di, it was the Foreign Secretary who spoke.

"We won't run the risk of interruptions," he went on, with that slow,
clear enunciation of his which most Oxford men have, and keep all their
lives, especially men of the college that was his--Balliol. "I told
Mountstuart that I wanted a private chat with you. Beyond that, he knows
nothing, nor does anyone else except myself. You understand that this
conversation of ours, whether anything comes of it or not, is entirely
confidential. I have a proposal to make. You'll agree to it or not, as
you choose. But if you don't agree, forget it, with everything I may
have said."

"My services and my memory are both at your disposal," answered Ivor, in
such a gay, happy voice that something told me he had already talked
with Diana--and that in spite of me she had not snubbed him. "I am
honoured--I won't say flattered, for I'm too much in earnest--that you
should place any confidence in me."

I lay there behind the lounge and sneered at this speech of his. Of
course, I said to myself, he would be ready to do anything to please the
Foreign Secretary, since all the big plums his ambition craved were in
the gift of that man.

"Frankly, I'm in a difficulty, and it has occurred to me that you can
help me out of it better than anyone else I know," said the smooth,
trained voice. "It is a little diplomatic errand you will have to
undertake for me tomorrow, if you want to do me a good turn."