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Williams, Valentine, 1883-1946

"Okewood of the Secret Service"

She had never
believed that any disguise could be so baffling, so complete;
Major Okewood, she thought, looked like a different man.
But Bellward had grasped the dancer by the two arms and forced
her up the stairs in front of him. Nur-el-Din seemed too overcome
with terror to utter a sound.
"Oh, don't be so rough with her, Major Okewood!" entreated
Barbara, "you'll hurt her!"
She had her back turned to Strangwise so she missed the very
remarkable change that came over his features at her words.
"Okewood," he whispered but too low for the girl to distinguish
the words, "Okewood? I might have guessed! I might have guessed!"
Then he touched Barbara lightly on the shoulder.
"Come," he said, "we must be getting upstairs. We have much to
do!"
He gently impelled her towards the ladder up which Bellward and
Nur-el-Din had already disappeared. At the top, he took the lead
and conducted Barbara into the taproom. A single candle stood on
the table, throwing a wan light into the room. Rass lay on his
back in the centre of the floor, one hand doubled up under him,
one knee slightly drawn up.
Barbara started back in horror.
"Is he... is he..." she stammered, pointing at the limp still
form.
Strangwise nodded.
"A spy!" he said gravely, "we were well rid of him.


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