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Updated: June 21, 2025
Julien, just a word of caution." "Fire away," Julien sighed. He was already gazing steadfastly out of the window, already the sentences were framing themselves in his mind. "The day upon which your first article appears," Kendricks said, "Freudenberg will strike. Your life here will never be wholly safe. You will be encompassed with spies and enemies.
"Henri," Herr Freudenberg said in an aside, "you will present my compliments to the chef. You will shake him by the hand from me. You will double the little affair which passes between us. Tell him that it comes from one who appreciates the work of a great artist, even though his French thickens a little in his throat." Henri bowed low.
Still, you will at least have traveled, you will at least have seen new phases of life." Julien was puzzled. "You cannot seriously propose to me," he protested, "to undertake a diplomatic errand for a country which has absolutely no claims upon me to which I am not even attracted?" he added. Herr Freudenberg tapped with his forefinger upon the table. Upon his lips was a genial and tolerant smile.
"If you have any more such speeches to make " "Mademoiselle, I have none," Herr Freudenberg interrupted, bowing. "Allow me, on the contrary, to offer you my apologies and to express my admiration for your bearing. I must, alas! acknowledge myself, for the moment, vanquished. I shall leave you to release our dear friend, Sir Julien.
"Monsieur," Herr Freudenberg said, "to-day shall be no exception. To-day I speak to you, perhaps, more openly than ever before. To-day I perhaps risk much yet why not speak the things which are in my heart?" Monsieur Felix Brant took a cigarette from the box by his elbow, but he felt for it only. His eyes never left the face of his host.
"Herr Freudenberg, your luncheon has been delightful," Monsieur Decheles declared, holding out his hand. "You have given us, as usual, something to think of. These informal meetings between citizens of two great countries will do, I am sure, more than anything else in the world, to ripen our budding friendship."
Of the three men, he seemed the one least in sympathy with the state of affairs to which Herr Freudenberg had alluded so cheerfully. He watched the man at the head of the table all the time as though every energy of which he was possessed was devoted to the task of reading underneath that suave but impenetrable face.
The table of Herr Freudenberg was smothered with roses. There was a shade more color in the cheeks of Mademoiselle Ixe, in her eyes a light as soft as any which the eyes of a woman who loved could know. Herr Freudenberg, unruffled, had still the air of a man who finds life pleasant. As the two men came up the room, he rose and held out both his hands.
We have an old friend, the Marquis de Rochermont, who pays us periodical visits. I believe long ago he was grandmamma's lover. They have such beautiful manners together, and their conversation is so interesting, one can fancy one's self back in that dainty world of the engravings of Moreau le Jeune and Freudenberg which we have.
"You know," Herr Freudenberg remarked, glancing at his finger-nails for a moment, "that it is most diabolically clever?" "You flatter me," Julien murmured. "Not at all. I have spoken the truth. I am here to know what price you will take to suppress the remainder of the series." Julien considered.
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