No Promise for Tomorrow by Thomas E. Simmons

Author:Thomas E. Simmons
Format: epub

Ansel followed Van Deman back to Secretary Lansing’s office. Van Deman knocked once on the open doorway, and, with permission, entered.

The Secretary asked, “Well gentlemen, how did the meeting go?” Van Deman answered without a hint of what they had heard, “Major Quinn did an excellent job, sir. General Pershing appeared to listen to every word with little comment. I believe he found the meeting worthwhile. He actually tried to recruit Major Quinn.” He could not resist the smirk.

“Did he? That reminds me, if you two will follow me to the Diplomatic Reception Room, we have three guests waiting there for us.”

Fighting a deep feeling of depression over what General Pershing had revealed, they followed Lansing next door to the elaborately decorated room. Two of the three guests were formally attired gentlemen—both wearing black morning coats, with all the usual trimmings—dove-gray waistcoats, striped trousers, white shirts with winged collars, fore-in-hand ties, and polished black shoes. The third guest was a great surprise to Ansel, but not to Van Deman. Standing between the two gentlemen, holding a crystal flute half filled with champagne, was Isabel dressed in a silk sky blue summer blouse, a white flared skirt made of ‘war crinoline’ with a daring half calf hemline, and fashionable opera pumps of a color to match the blouse.

The sight of Isabel raised the spirits of the two intelligence officers. Secretary of State Lansing, smiling at the expression on Ansel’s face, made the introductions. “By now every gentleman in this room knows the lovely Mrs. Quinn.” He bowed slightly in her direction, and she dipped her eyes in reply. “Colonel Van Deman and Major Quinn, may I introduce Jean Adrien Antoine Jules Jusserand, French Ambassador to the United States.” The Frenchman nodded. “And Sir Cecil Spring Rice, United Kingdom’s Ambassador to the United States.” He too nodded. “Gentlemen, may I present you both to Colonel Van Deman and Major Quinn of the United States Army Intelligence Service.”

Van Deman replied, “It’s an honor to meet you, both.”

Ansel momentarily glanced questioningly at Isabel, before turning to face the French Ambassador. “Cést un plaisir se vous rencontrer, Monsier I’Ambassadeur,” and then to the English Ambassador, “It is an honor to meet you, sir.”

Sir Rice nodded and replied, “I assure you, on this occasion, the pleasure is mine, Major.”

The French Ambassador commented, “You speak French very well, Major Quinn.”

“Thank you, sir. My mother was French.”

“So I learned from the letter I received from General Henrí Bourget.” Isabel’s eyes lit up at the mention of the man she now knew was Ansel’s real father—the once young French officer she had read about in Bethany’s diary.

“And how is the General, Mr. Ambassador?”

“He is well and sends his regards to you and Mrs. Quinn.”

“I am very glad to hear it.”

“He will be pleased to hear of our meeting, how well you look, and how lovely Mrs. Quinn is.” The Ambassador smiled sincerely. “His last communiqué concerning the purpose of our meeting today mentioned that your American replacement at French Army Headquarters is not as amusing as you were, but is a lot less trouble.

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