"I can't, Mr. Harleston; I don't know anything about ciphers. And I told
you the whole truth when I said that I neither knew what the envelope
contained nor its purpose. What disturbs me is how to explain to the
French Ambassador the loss of the letter."

"Tell him the exact truth," said Harleston. "It would have been better
possibly had you told him this morning."

"I thought you would return the letter to me," she replied.

"I likely should, had I seen you before I turned it over to the State
Department. Now that it has passed out of my hands, it is a matter for
the Secretary to decide."

"But he will be advised by you!" she exclaimed.

"Advised, yes,--dominated, no. The only chance of the letter being
returned to you, is that it does not affect this government."

"Diplomacy then is willing to stoop to any crime or to profit by any
wrong?" she mocked.

"I am afraid I must admit the accusation. Everything is fair in love
and war, you know--and diplomacy is only a species of war."

"Have I no redress for the outrage upon me, nor for the loss of the
letter by reason of that outrage?"

"I'm afraid you'll find the wheels of justice very slow-moving--when
they have to do with affairs diplomatic."