Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. "Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr. “Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares.
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