Romo stood beside her, and every now and again would engage the President in a brief exchange.

"I don't like that kind of talk," said the Envoy firmly. "The government here has be- haved very wisely in not retal- iating against the Boca invasion. Their decision to contain the rebellion to Ciudad Rodrigo has been most statesmanlike.'

"And I can quote you on that," said Lipper, reaching for two Scotches from the tray of a passing waiter, which he then united in one glass.

""

"Of course,' said Ward lavishly.

"You're a damn fool," said Lipper, draining his glass. "This is all for show. They're papering over cracks."

Flushed, the Envoy was prevented from replying as sev- eral members of the Chamber of Deupties surrounded him, all asking earnest questions about Boca, and if he would withdraw voluntarily from El Chaco.

There was dancing at one end of the room, in typical fashion for one of Irena's receptions. Renowned as a dancer herself, there was al- ways provision for such at her affairs. Tonight, however, she did not dance with anyone, inflicting quite a bitter look upon one of her Personal Secretaries when she returned from a rather sedate waltz.

Soon the word spread that Irena had gone on with the reception despite Salluca's death so that the new alliance could be forged in public, but she still deeply mourned the death of her Vice President, and there would be days of official mourn- ing very soon.

It was quite later when Louis Ward finally managed to catch Irena by herself, as she left a group of junior officers of the Vanguard Division, all of whom had vied outrage- ously for her attention.

"Irena," said the Envoy

to the smiling, beautiful woman, "Can't we get away for a few moments to talk?"

Irena glanced about. Both Consuela and Isabel were en- gaged by different people in what appeared to be animated conversations. "Please, as a favor to an old admirer," said Ward, with a grin.

Instantly, Irena stiffened and stared at him very closely. Under that fearful, penetrating look, Ward had a distinct im- pression of youth. How much like a girl of eighteen Irena was, he thought, despite her heavy makeup and stylish dress. He admired her soft, unflawed, girlish skin. He hoped she wasn't into any kind of treatment or cosmetic surgery but her

tan seemed to give the lie to that idea. Slowly, she nodded and, allowing the Envoy to take her arm, she went with him towards the salon at the end of the reception room, near to the raised stage area.

"Irena!" A tall, dark man with finely chiselled features stepped between Ward and the President, breaking the grip Ward held on her bare arm. Not young, the man was handsome, with a strong, firm jaw, and just a touch of grey at the sides of his hair. Irena looked at him blankly, and he reached out, putting his arm protectively and possessively about her. "Why haven't you answered the notes I sent you? Surely you know how much I want you!" His hand slipped about her waist to squeeze her in a very familiar manner.

Ward gripped the other man's arm. "Excuse me, who- ever you are," he snapped, noting the convergence of Irena's bodyguard in their di- rection. "The President is about to enter into a conversation with me that is most impor-

tant. So.

""

The sneer on the man's lip showed what he thought of Ward. "Darling," he said in a lower, more intimate tone

-33-

to Irena's stricken face. "When I saw you tonight like this, after you told me you'd never cut your hair, or wear it up, even for me. . .Well, I know now that you must really need me, especially with your lackey dead. Aren't I right?"

Irena eyed him wordlessly. The grasp about her waist tightened. "What notes?" she rasped at length. "What notes did you send me?"

""

The hand withdrew almost immediately as she spoke. There was stunned amazement on the man's face. "You......you're....' he began, but then a dark woman in a blank dress slipped between Irena and him.

"Ricardo Venha de Saeyan y Querido," Consuela drawled out the name. “I wasn't aware that you received an invitation to this reception.'

""

His head did did not move at all from the incredulous staring position with which he had transfixed Irena. "I gate- crashed," he murmured absent- ly. Then he broke his stare to glare at Consuela bitterly. "I knew that you would have intercepted my letters and yet I wanted to see Irena so much.'

"And now that you have," said Consuela lightly, "perhaps you will accompany me and I will explain about the letters."

"My pleasure." The words came automatically. Quickly, he took another glance at Irena, then took Consuela's arm gal- lantly as the body guard arrived and Consuela waved them off, and, with a shake of his head, swept Consuela imperiously through the milling throng.

""

"I don't know how you do it, Irena," sighed Ward, taking her arm anew. "Maybe it's all these handsome men who keep you looking so young.' Despite the lightness of his touch, Irena almost jumped away from him. For one mo- ment, there was panic again in her eyes. She shivered, but the polite mask she'd worn all night finally won out though