Englishman, over-sanguine and entirely undisciplined. They expect, and
their country expects for them that in the case of emergency pluck would
take the place of training."

The Right Honourable Gerald Watson stood upon the steps talking to the
wife of the Italian Ambassador. She left him presently, and he came
strolling down the lawn with his hands behind his back and his eyes
seeming to see out past the golf links.

"There goes a man," Terniloff murmured, "whom lately I have found
changed. When I first came here he met me quite openly. I believe, even
now, he is sincerely desirous of peace and amicable relations between
our two countries, and yet something has fallen between us. I cannot
tell what it is. I cannot tell even of what nature it is, but I have an
instinct for people's attitude towards me, and the English are the worst
race in the world at hiding their feelings. Has Mr. Watson, I wonder
come under the spell of your connection, the Duke of Worcester? He
seemed so friendly with both of us down in Norfolk."

Their womenkind left them at that moment to talk to some acquaintances
seated a short distance way. Mr. Watson, passing within a few yards of
them, was brought to a standstill by Dominey's greeting. They talked for
a moment or two upon idle subjects.

"Your news, I trust, continues favourable?" the Ambassador remarked,
observing the etiquette which required him to be the first to leave the
realms of ordinary conversation.

"It is a little negative in quality," the other answered, after a
moment's hesitation. "I am summoned to Downing Street again at six