’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards.
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