Grimm and I found you.
Please remember, Monsieur, that we will accomplish what we set out to
do. Nothing can stop us--nothing."
At just about the same moment the name of Prince d'Abruzzi had been used
in the dining-room, but in a different connection. Mr. Cadwallader was
reciting some incident of an automobile trip in Italy when he had been
connected with the British embassy there.
"The prince was driving," he said, "and one of the best I ever saw.
Corking chap, the prince; democratic, you know, and all that sort of
thing. He was one scion of royalty who didn't mind soiling his hands by
diving in under a car and fixing it himself. At that time he was
inclined to be wild--that was eight or nine years ago--but they say now
he has settled down to work, and is one of the real diplomatic powers of
Italy. I haven't seen him for a half dozen years."
"How old a man is he?" asked Mr. Grimm carelessly.
"Thirty-five, thirty-eight, perhaps; I don't know," replied Mr.
Cadwallader. "It's odd, you know, the number of princes and blue-bloods
and all that sort of thing one can find knocking about in Italy and
Germany and Spain.
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