A diplomat of the old, punctilious school is M. Jean Herbette, Ambassador of the French Republic to the Soviet Union, dean of the Moscow diplomatic corps, veteran of a thousand manicures, husband of a onetime danseuse of the Paris opera. One morning, fortnight ago, his valet patted him into diplomatic uniform, adjusted the cross of the Legion of Honor on his chest, sprayed just the merest squeeze of perfume. His secretary handed him a crisp official envelope blazoned with the eagles of Rumania. His military chauffeur, his gold-frogged footman, his glistening, beak-nosed Renault...
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