Manchurian Books

Treves smiled.
"Where did you lodge in Frankfort, Father?"
"At the Benedictine Monastery in Sachsenhausen."
"Do the good brethren supply their guests with a potent wine? Frankfort
is, and always has been, the chief market of that exhilarating but
illusion-creating beverage."
The cheeks of the Countess flushed crimson at this insinuation on her
kinsman's sobriety. The old monk's hand rested on the arm of her throne,
and she placed her own hand upon his as if to encourage him to resent
the implied slander. After all, they were two Sayns hard pressed by
these ruthless potentates. But Ambrose answered mildly:
"It may be that the monastery contains wine, my Lord, and doubtless the
wine is good, but during my visit I did not taste it."
Cross-examination at an end, the Lord of Mayence spoke scarcely above a
whisper, a trace of weariness in his manner.
"My Lords," he said, "we have wandered from the subject. The romance by
Father Ambrose is but indifferently interesting, and nothing at all to
the point.


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