He gave no evidence, however, that he was going to take my advice, or any one else's for that matter." "Of course, I'm not trying to pick your confidence. Mr. Secretary!" Mrs. Rotherick spoke quickly. "You know, I've lived for years in Germany. I say to you, beware of Germany in Mexico, Mr. Huntingdon." "What kind of people did you know in Germany?" asked Enoch. "Many kinds!
"One could much more easily write a rhapsody on " "On the Secretary of the Interior," interrupted the Ambassador. "Or on the Bank of England," laughed Mrs. Rotherick. "Very well, gentlemen! I hope you never will have cause to remember my warning!" It was just as the ladies were leaving the table that Enoch said to Mrs.
"Why?" "I don't think I really know. Do you like men?" "Yes, I do," replied Mrs. Rotherick promptly. "Why?" asked Enoch. "They aren't such cats as women," she chuckled. "Perhaps cat fear is your trouble! What are you going to do about Mexico, Mr. Huntingdon?" Enoch smiled. "I told the President at great length, this afternoon, what I thought we ought to do.
Secretary, remember what I say, Germany is deeply interested in Mexico and she is the cleverest nation in the world to-day." "What nation is that, Mrs. Rotherick?" asked the Ambassador. "Germany!" replied the little woman. "Possibly you look at Germany through the eyes of a fiction writer," suggested the Englishman. "It's impossible to fictionize Germany," laughed Mrs. Rotherick.
Rotherick: "Will you be so kind as to write me a letter telling me of your suspicions of Germany in Mexico? I shall treat it as confidential." Mrs. Rotherick nodded, and he did not see her again that evening. Just before Enoch departed for his engagement with Señor Cadiz, the Ambassador buttonholed him. "Look here, Huntingdon," he said, "that little Mrs. Rotherick knows a thing or two.