His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow.
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