She did not speak for a moment. His question had been rather a shock to her. In a moment or two, however, she found herself wondering how to use it for her own advantage. “It is true,” she admitted. He looked intently at the point of his patent shoe. “Is this not a case, Countess,” he ventured, “in which you and I might perhaps come a little closer together?” “If you have anything to suggest, I am ready to listen,” she said. “I wonder,” he went on, “if I am right in some of my ideas? I shall test them. You have taken up your abode in England. That was natural, for domestic reasons. You have shown a great interest in a certain section of the British public. It is my theory that your interest in England is for that section only; that as a country, you are no more an admirer of her characteristics than I am.” “You are perfectly right,” she answered coolly. “Your interest,” he proceeded, “is in the men and women toilers of the world, the people who carry on their shoulders the whole burden of life, and whose position you are continually desiring to ameliorate. I take it that your sympathy is international?” “It is,” she assented “People of this order in--say--Germany, excite your sympathy in the same degree?” “Absolutely!” “Therefore,” he propounded, “you are working for the betterment of the least considered class, whether it be German, Austrian, British, or French?” “That also is true,” she agreed. “I pursue my theory, then. The issue of this war leaves you indifferent, so long as the people come to their own?” “My work for the last few weeks amongst those men of whom you have been speaking,” she pointed out, “should prove that.” “We are through the wood and in the open, then,” he declared, with a little sigh of relief. “Now I am prepared to trade secrets with you. I am not a friend of this country. Neither my Chief nor my Government have the slightest desire to see England win the war.” “That I knew,” she acknowledged. “Now I ask you for information,” he continued. “Tell me this? Your pseudo-friends have presented the supposed German terms of peace to Mr. Stenson. What was the result?” “He is taking twenty-four hours to consider them.” “And what will happen if he refuses?” the Baron asked, leaning a little towards her. “Will they use their mighty weapon? Will they really go the whole way, or will they compromise?” “They will not compromise,” she assured him. “The telegrams to the secretaries of the various Trades Unions are already written out. They will be despatched five minutes after Mr. Stenson’s refusal to sue for an armistice has been announced.” “You know that?” he persisted. “I know it beyond any shadow of doubt.” He nodded slowly. “Your information,” he admitted, “is valuable to me. Well though I am served, I cannot penetrate into the inner circles of the Council itself. Your news is good.” “And now,” she said, “I expect the most amazing revelations from you.”