“What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Sir John stood upon the threshold.
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