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' 'So am I,' I told him; 'but where's the harm? Mr. Quisante
must have his own opinion here and there--that comes of having a clever
man--but (I said) the Government had a hundred majority there, and Mr.
Quisante knew it.' Well, he saw that, and admitted that he'd been wrong
to make a fuss about it."
Quisante nodded grave appreciation. May gave a little laugh, and suddenly
poured out a glass of claret for Mr. Foster; turning, he found her eyes
on his face, sparkling with amusement. His own large features relaxed
into a slow smile; something like the twinkle was to be detected now.
"Nothing's the worse for a bit of putting, is it?" he said, and drank his
wine at a gulp.
"You're a diplomatist, Mr. Foster," said she.
"Not to the detriment of truth; I assure you I don't sacrifice that," he
replied, with renewed gravity and an apparently perfect sincerity.
May was sorry when he took his leave, partly for the temporary loss of a
study which amused her, more because his departure brought the time for
telling Quisante of Dick Benyon's visit.


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