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Williams, Valentine, 1883-1946

"Okewood of the Secret Service"

Our colleagues are already restless at what
they consider my neglect of my professional work. They attribute
it to the wiles of Nur-el-Din. They may if they like and I don't
propose to disillusion them. You understand, Bellward?"
His voice was commanding and he bent his brows at Desmond, who
hastened to protest that his discretion in the matter would be
absolute.
When they had had their coffee and Mortimer was contentedly
puffing one of Bellward's excellent double Coronas, Desmond rose
from the table.
"If you will excuse me a minute," he said, "I will just go across
to the library and see if my housekeeper has put all in order for
our guests!"
Instantly Mortimer got up from the table.
"By all means," he said, and emptied his glass of brandy, "so, I
will come with you!"
Mortimer meant to stick to him, thought Desmond; that was
evident. Then an idea struck him. Why should he not telephone in
Mortimer's presence? To ask for Mr. Elias was in no way
incriminating and if help came promptly, Mortimer could be
secured and the other spies pounced upon in their turn as they
arrived.
Therefore, as soon as they reached the library, Desmond walked
over to the desk and picked up the telephone receiver from its
hook.
"Excuse me," he said to Mortimer, "I had forgotten I had to ring
up Stanning!"
"Oh, dear," said Mortimer from his place on the hearth rug where
he was warming his coat tails in front of the fire, "isn't that
unfortunate? I wish I had known! Tut, tut, how annoying for you!"
The telephone seemed quite dead.


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