"Sometime, I hope, we can try it."
"Why not try it now?" she said gently.
"I'm in the American secret service--and, you said, America is not
involved."
"Join with Germany--and me--for this once."
He shook his head. "I serve my country for my pleasure. Germany is
another matter. If, sometime, in an affair entirely personal to you,
Madeline, I should be able to assist you, I shall be only too glad for
the chance."
"You don't trust me," she replied sadly.
"Trust is a word unknown in the diplomatic vocabulary!" he smiled.
"Moreover, I couldn't do what you want even if I believed and trusted
your every word. You want the letter--the Clephane letter. I haven't
it--as you know. It's in the possession of the State Department."
"Then let it remain there!" she exclaimed.
"It probably will until it's translated," he replied.
"It's in cipher?"
Harleston nodded. "Do you know what it contains?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, I don't."
"You would like to know?"
"Above everything!"
"And until then you would not have the French Ambassador advised of the
letter, nor of the adventure of the cab?"
"Precisely, old friend, precisely."
"How will you prevent Mrs. Clephane telling it?"
"We must try to provide for that!" she smiled.
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