Poltavo laughed softly. "That is true," he admitted. "For the moment I had completely forgotten. I dined at an unconscionably early hour with a business associate--I regret that I cannot give you his name----" The ambassador glanced down at his report. "Baggin?" he suggested. The count turned a little white, but he answered composedly. "It is true. I dined with Mr. Baggin." "And did not Mr. Grayson call you up over the telephone during dinner?" "Some one called Mr. Baggin," responded the count indifferently. "I remember, because the fish grew cold and had to be sent away." "And then?" "Then--we discussed--business. I have a little money lying idle which I desired Mr. Baggin to invest for me. Unfortunately, the sum was too small for his purpose." "And when did you join Mr. Grayson?" The count stared. "Not at all!" He glanced down at the typewritten sheets, and an ironical smile touched his lips. "Your report appears to be--ah!--defective." "It is," agreed the ambassador. "I had hoped to supplement it by your information. May I ask you again--Did you not see Mr. Grayson at some time during the evening of the eighteenth?" The count shook his head. "I did not," he replied simply. "I affirm it, upon the honour of a Poltavo." The ambassador sighed. "Then we are still in the dark," he said ruefully. "But I thank you for your courtesy. Would you care to know why I have sought you out, openly, in this extraordinary fashion?". "Because you are an extraordinary man," returned the count, with a deep bow. The ambassador made a motion of dissent, "Because I am your well-wisher, Count Poltavo," he said earnestly. "You are, I believe, a poet, a philosopher, a dreamer--not a common, base money-grabber. And, therefore, I should deeply regret to find you connected in any way with this present investigation, and I sincerely trust that in the future your name will not appear in these--ah!--defective reports. Frankly, I like you, Count Poltavo." He held out his hand. "Good-morning. I thank you for your extreme good nature in answering my questions." The count appeared moved. Throughout his life, this strange man remained deeply susceptible to expressions of regard from his associates, and was always melted, for the moment, by sincere affection. Indeed, his natural tenderness, offspring of his heart, and his haughty ambitions, offspring of his head, were ever in deadly conflict, and his hardness conquered only by the supremest act of his will. He grasped the outstretched hand cordially. "You are very kind!" he said. "And I shall repay you by endeavouring that my name does not again appear in that reprehensible report." He laid a hand upon the sheaf of papers. "I should like to see it?" he asked simply. The ambassador laughed outright. "My dear count," he exclaimed, "your powers are wasted as a private gentleman! You should be the ambassador of your imperial kinsman. There, your abilities would have adequate scope."