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Mr. Gould 's The Glass Of Wine

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“If we only knew what they were waiting for,” Mr. Gould said, sounding more like a petulant child than a diplomat. Monsieur Ochs set his glass down on the table. “If I knew that, Mr. Gould...” “I would be more than happy to go if I had any confidence that it would make a difference,” Mr. Alderbeek offered. “As would I,” Mr. Gould said. “I suppose any or all of us would, but will it make a difference?” Robert said, becoming as frustrated as Monsieur Ochs seemed to be. “As I said, I do not believe that it will,” Monsieur Ochs said, beginning to pour out another glass of wine, much to Robert’s confusion, since he already had a glass. “And round and round and round we go,” Robert said with a sigh. A smile played on Monsieur Ochs’s face. “Then what do we do?” Mr. Gould asked. “We wait.” Monsieur Ochs shrugged. “Tomorrow is another social event,” Mr. Alderbeek said with some hope coloring his statement. “Yes, yes, it is!” Robert leaped on his idea. “At the Marquis de Barthélemy’s home, isn’t it?” “Yes,” Mr. Alderbeek said. “We could perhaps corner the French delegation?” Mr. Gould suggested. Monsieur Ochs shook his head. “Too strong. Too direct.” He took yet a third glass and began to pour. “But we should speak with them,” Robert argued, still watching Monsieur Ochs pouring wine. “Yes. But one at a time and with great diplomacy,” Monsieur Ochs suggested, beginning to hand glasses to each of them. Once they all stood with a glass in hand, he lifted his. “To concluding this with

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