As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard.
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