‘But a spy I am not. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. I don’t know. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. ” “Right!” he said, and hesitated, and then got up and went into the preparationroom. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.
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