The diplomatist bowed an apology. He had forgotten that even in private her comedy was to be played by the book. The conversation of the next few minutes he foresaw very plainly. She would play round the reason for their meeting, without coming to grips, mysteriously conveying her meaning in speeches which she did not mean. Only a politician of Aksakoff's subtlety would have understood the unsaid from what she now proceeded to say. "Besides"--she was continuing the speech interrupted by his bow--"you promised that no harm should come to the doctor." "Madame, I renew that promise." "I hope so; otherwise, I shall regret having consented to this meeting." "Yet I understood that M. Demetrius desired it." "That is no reason why I should consent." "Possibly not. Still, as a peacemaker----" "You put me into the Beatitudes, then?" "Why not, if you achieve your object in reconciling enemies?" "The signing of the treaty depends upon you, M. Aksakoff." "Consider it signed--on conditions." "Which means that it is not signed. H'm! M. Demetrius is anxious, even willing, to renounce your daughter." A dull red stained Aksakoff's opaque skin. "How flattering to my fatherly pride! There is, then"--the hint was delicate--"another?" Lady Jim retorted in kind. "So you said at Monte Carlo." "Mademoiselle Ninette? I believe I did. She lured him to Paris, then?" "How should I know? He has never mentioned the creature's name to me, nor would he dare to. He came, so he declares, to see me." "On matters connected with your recent loss, no doubt." "It is more than probable." Her avoidance of the necessary topic exasperated him. Sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, but wisdom withheld them. His accomplice was not the woman to yield to dominance, and the merest hint of its exercise might, probably would, engender wrath likely to jeopardise the almost achieved plot. Money or no money--Aksakoff still ascribed mercenary reasons--her pride would never bend to the yoke of advice. To be silent was his second thought, and silent he became. This, it would seem, was wise, since she began to explain, Aksakoff paying out liberally the necessary rope that she might hang herself. "M. Demetrius is unwise to come here. I told him so; yes, I confess--remember my warning--that I betrayed you. All the same--very foolishly, I think--he insisted upon an immediate meeting, to recover his birthright, he says. Can you arrange for the rehabilitation, of this exiled Esau?" A faint smile played round the diplomatist's thin lips, "I can!" "And you will?" "Assuredly, if M. Demetrius disabuses Katinka of her infatuation." "That is his affair and yours. No doubt"--she spoke meaningly--"you will wish to speak to him privately?" "There is no need, madame, seeing that you are in his confidence, and in mine. Besides"--very slowly--"we can converse over our tea." Lady Jim's nerves jumped. "Over tea," she echoed equally slowly--"tea, after luncheon?"