Publisher's Synopsis
"A club for diplomats and gentlemen," Prince Karschoff remarked, looking lazily through alittle cloud of tobacco smoke around the spacious but almost deserted card room. "Theclassification seems comprehensive enough, yet it seems impossible to get even a decentrubber of bridge."Sir Daniel Harker, a many years retired plenipotentiary to one of the smaller Powers, shrugged his shoulders."Personally, I have come to the conclusion," he declared, "that the raison d'être for the clubseems to be passing. There is no diplomacy, nowadays, and every man who pays his taxes isa gentleman. Kingley, you are the youngest. Ransack the club and find a fourth."The Honourable Nigel Kingley smiled lazily from the depths of his easy-chair. He was ayoung Englishman of normal type, long-limbed, clean-shaven, with good features, ahumorous mouth and keen grey eyes."In actual years," he admitted, "I may have the advantage of you two, but so far as regardsthe qualities of youth, Karschoff is the youngest man here. Besides, no one could refuse himanything.""It is a subterfuge," the Prince objected, "but if I must go, I will go presently. We will waitfive minutes, in case Providence should be kind to us."
