’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. CHAPTER XVI Ah cum began to worry. 4. ” “DUSTING!” said Miss Miniver, in a sepulchral voice.
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