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Williams, Valentine, 1883-1946

"Okewood of the Secret Service"


"Nothing came while I was away!" he said.
"Now that you are back," Mortimer remarked, polishing his glasses
with a bandanna handkerchief, "the service will be resumed. I
have come to see you, Mr. Bellward," he went on, turning to
Desmond, "contrary to my usual practice, mainly because I wished
to confirm by personal observation the very favorable opinion I
had formed of your ability from our correspondence. You have
already demonstrated your discretion to me. If you continue to
show that your prudence is on a level with your zeal, believe I
shall not prove myself ungrateful."
So saying he settled his glasses on his nose again.
The action woke Desmond from a brown study. During the operation
of wiping his spectacles, Mr. Mortimer had given Desmond a
glimpse of his eyes in their natural state without the protection
of those distorting glasses. To his intense surprise Desmond had
seen, instead of the weak, blinking eyes of extreme myopia, a
pair of keen piercing eyes with the clear whites of perfect
health. Those blue eyes, set rather close together, seemed dimly
familiar. Someone, somewhere, had once looked at him like that.
"You are too kind," murmured Desmond, grappling for the thread of
the conversation.
Mortimer did not apparently notice his absentmindedness.


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