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. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. "Right," said the Master, "I didn't think of her. Now, I know you can restore him to his rights, if you choose. "He does," replied Kneebone, "and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her.
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