’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. " "It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, ruefully. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ” “Exactly! And so you came along to me.
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