"Again those deep waters!" said Miss Van Tuyn, this time with
unmistakable satire. "But perhaps you are right. I remember a very
brilliant American, who knew practically all the nations of Europe,
telling me that in his opinion you English were the subtlest--I'm afraid
he was rude enough to say the most artful--of the lot."

As she spoke the word "artful" her fine eyes smiled straight into
Braybrooke's, and she pinched her red lips together very expressively.

"But I must confess," she added, "that at the moment we were discussing
diplomats."

"Artful was rather unkind," murmured Braybrooke. "I--I hope you don't
think my friend Craven is one of that type?"

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of Mr. Craven."

The implication was fairly obvious, and Braybrooke did not miss it,
although he was not in possession of his full mental powers.

"Perhaps it is our own fault," he said. "But I think we English are
often misunderstood."

As he spoke he shot a rather poignant glance in the direction of Fanny
Cronin, who had now finished her tea, and was gathering her fur cloak
about her as if in preparation for departure.

"In fact," he added, "I am sure of it. This very day even--"