Ambassador

The Whistler and I know many things before I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

Tonight, Transcrowd, it's the Whistler Strange story, the ambassador. of the guests and Mrs. Helena Forsyth's elegant drawing room. Look upon the party for what it was, a highly important marker in the Washington Social Season.

Her guest list was virtually a who of the governmental least of foreign dignitaries and the syndicated columnist who recorded their coming and going. But to Gerald Wells, counselor officer and the diplomatic service, it was even more than this.

Mrs. Forsyth was charming. She was a widow and her influence extended well beyond social affairs. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Well, did I abuse you to dance with me? Why, of course. I was about to play my respect.

You forgive me, Mr. Wells, but you know when you came in the evening, it started me reminiscing. Oh, oh, oh, oh. Well, we're both old-timers in a way. You've been in the diplomatic service for 20 years now, haven't you?

Twenty years, two months, and eight days. Positive? Positive. I have held almost every job in the books, you know. Korea, first secretary, Council. All except one. Yes. All except one. And that one's on its way.

I assume you're referring to Mr. Johnson's resignation. Yes. Your successor will be chosen from Dream End. You, Eric Thomas, and... Oh, let's see that outside of the... Donald Wilkins. I've sort down to him, but he really doesn't have a chance, so...