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Williams, Valentine, 1883-1946

"Okewood of the Secret Service"

The newspapers don't publish its casualty list, though you
and I know that it's a long one. A man slips quietly away and
never comes back, and after a certain lapse of time we just mark
him off the books and there's an end of it. But it's a great
service; and you've made your mark in it. The Chief wants men
like you. You'll have to stay!"
Desmond was about to speak; but the girl stopped him. "What do
you and I matter," she asked, "when the whole future of England
is at stake! If you are to give of your best to this silent game
of ours, you must be free with no responsibilities and no ties,
with nothing that will ever make you hesitate to take a supreme
risk. And I never met a man that dared more freely than you!"
"Oh, please..." said Desmond and got up.
He stood gazing seawards for a while.
Then he glanced at his watch.
"I must be going back to London," he said. "I have to see the
Chief at four this afternoon. And you know why!"
The girl nodded.
"What will you tell him?" she asked. "Will you accept his offer
to remain on in the Secret Service?"
Desmond looked at her ruefully.
"You're so eloquent about it," he said slowly, "that I think I
must!"
Smiling, she gave him her hand. Desmond held it for an instant in
his.
Then, without another word, he turned and strode off towards the
winding white road that led to the station.


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