for any code of honour, and a ruthlessness of purpose simply
appalling--yet, withal, dignity, strained at times, but dignity
none-the-less."

"Then it isn't even a respectable calling!" she exclaimed.

"It's eminently respectable to intimidate and to lie for one's
country--and to stoop to any means to attain an end."

"And you enjoy it!" she marvelled.

"I do. It's fascinating--and I leave the disagreeable portion to others,
when it has to do with those not of the profession."

"And when it has to do with those of the profession?"

"Then it's all in the game, and everything goes to win--because we all
know what to expect and what to guard against. No one believes or trusts
the enemy; and, as I said, everyone is the enemy but those who are
arrayed with us."

"So instead of being the finest profession in the world--and the most
aristocratic," Mrs. Clephane reflected, "a diplomat is, in truth, simply
a false-pretence artist of an especially refined and dangerous type,
who deals with the affairs of nations instead of the affairs of an
individual."

"Pretty much," he admitted. "Diplomacy is all bluff, bluster, buncombe,
and bullying; the degrees of refinement of the aforesaid bluff, _et
cetera_, depending on the occasions, and the particular parties involved