ack to London.

"So far as I can judge the trend of events, you will probably be back
in Berlin within the week," the secretary was saying. "When you get
there, my dear Von Bork, I think you will be surprised at the welcome
you will receive. I happen to know what is thought in the highest
quarters of your work in this country." He was a huge man, the
secretary, deep, broad, and tall, with a slow, heavy fashion of speech
which had been his main asset in his political career.

Von Bork laughed.

"They are not very hard to deceive," he remarked. "A more docile,
simple folk could not be imagined."

"I don't know about that," said the other thoughtfully. "They have
strange limits and one must learn to observe them. It is that surface
simplicity of theirs which makes a trap for the stranger. One's first
impression is that they are entirely soft. Then one comes suddenly upon
something very hard, and you know that you have reached the limit and
must adapt yourself to the fact. They have, for example, their insular
conventions which simply MUST be observed."

"Meaning 'good form' and that sort of thing?" Von Bork sighed as one
who had suffered much.

"Meaning British prejudice in all its queer manifestations. As an
example I may quote one of my own worst blunders--I can afford to talk
of my blunders, for you know my work well enough to be aware of my
successes. It was on my first arrival. I was invited to a week-end
gathering at the country house of a cabinet minister. The conversation
was amazingly indiscreet."

Von Bork nodded. "I've been there," said he dryly.

"Exactly. Well, I naturally sent a resume of the information to
Berlin. Unfortunately our good chancellor is a little heavy-handed in
these matters, and he transmitted a remark which showed that he was
aware of what had been said. This, of course, took the trail straight
up to me. You've no idea the harm that it did me. There was nothing
soft about our British hosts on that occasion, I can assure you. I was
two years living it down. Now you, with this sporting pose of yours--"

"No, no, don't call it a pose. A pose is an artificial thing. This is
quite natural. I am a born sportsman. I enjoy it."

"Well, that makes it the more effective. You yacht against them, you
hunt with them, you play polo, you match them in every game, your
four-in-hand takes the prize at Olympia. I have even heard that you go
the length of boxing with the you