ador
explained calmly, "because you have come to--shall I accept your term?--a
city of boors and fail to adapt yourself. The true diplomatist adapts
himself wherever he may be. My personal sympathies remain with you. I
will do what I can in my report."
Norgate had recovered himself.
"I thank you very much, sir," he said. "I shall catch the three
o'clock train."
The Ambassador held out his hand. The interview had finished. He
permitted himself to speak differently.
"I am very sorry indeed, Norgate, that this has happened," he declared.
"We all have our trials to bear in this city, and you have run up
against one of them rather before your time. I wish you good luck,
whatever may happen."
Norgate clasped his Chief's hand and left the apartment. Then he made his
way to his rooms, gave his orders and sent a messenger to secure his seat
in the train. Last of all he went to the telephone. He rang up the number
which had become already familiar to him, almost with reluctance. He
waited for the reply without any pleasurable anticipations. He was filled
with a burning sense of resentment, a feeling which extended even to the
innocent cause of it. Soon he heard her voice.
"That is Mr. Norgate, is it not?"
"Yes," he replied. "I rang up to wish you good-by."
"Good-by! But you are going away, then?"
"I am sent away--dismissed!"
He heard her little exclamation of grief. Its complete genuineness broke
down a little the wall of his anger.
"And it is my fault!" she exclaimed. "If only I could do anything! Will
you wait--please wait? I will go to the Palace myself."
His expostulation was almost a shock to her.
"Baroness," he replied, "if I permitted your intervention, I could never
hold my head up in Berlin again! In any case, I could not stay here. The
first thing I should do would be to quarrel with that insufferable young
cad who insulted us last night. I am afraid, at the first opportunity, I
should tell--"
"Hush!" she interrupted. "Oh, please hush! You must not talk like
this, even over the telephone. Cannot you understand that you are not
in England?"
"I am beginning to realise," he answered gruffly, "what it means not to
be in a free country. I am leaving by the three o'clock train, Baroness.
Farewell!"
"But you must not go like this," she pleaded. "Come first and see me."
"No! It will only mean more disgrace for you. Besides--in any case, I
have decided to go away without seeing you again."
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