Norgate returned to the Embassy, bathed and breakfasted, and a little
after eleven made his way round to the business quarters. One of his
fellow-workers there glanced up and nodded at his arrival.

"Where's the Chief?" Norgate enquired.

"Gone down to the Palace," the other young man, whose name was Ansell,
replied; "telephoned for the first thing this morning. Ghastly habit
William has of getting up at seven o'clock and suddenly remembering that
he wants to talk diplomacy. The Chief will be furious all day now."

Norgate lit a cigarette and began to open his letters. Ansell, however,
was in a discoursive mood. He swung around from his desk and leaned back
in his chair.

"How can a man," he demanded, "see a question from the same point of view
at seven o'clock in the morning and seven o'clock in the evening?
Absolutely impossible, you know. That's what's the matter with our
versatile friend up yonder. He gets all aroused over some scheme or other
which comes to him in the dead of night, hops out of bed before any one
civilised is awake, and rings up for ambassadors. Then at night-time he
becomes normal again and takes everything back. The consequence is that
this place is a regular diplomatic see-saw. Settling down in Berlin
pretty well, aren't you, Norgate?"

"Very nicely, thanks," the latter replied.

"Dining alone with the Baroness von Haase!" his junior continued. "A
Court favourite, too! Never been seen alone before except with her young
princeling. What honeyed words did you use, Lothario--"