You are Baron Bertram Maderstrom,
a German spy, living here in a prohibited area under a false name.
That I know, and that I shall prove to those who have interfered
with me in the execution of my duty. This is not the end."
He left the room without even a word or a salute to Philippa.
Lessingham looked after him for a moment, thoughtfully. Then he
shrugged his shoulders.
"I am quite sure that I do not like Captain Griffiths," he declared.
"There is no breeding about the fellow."
CHAPTER XXIV
Philippa, even for some moments after the departure of Captain
Griffiths and his myrmidons, remained in a sort of nerveless trance.
The crisis, with its bewildering denouement, had affected her
curiously. Lessingham rose presently to his feet.
"I wonder," he asked, "if I could have a whisky and soda?"
She stamped her foot at him in a little fit of hysterical passion.
"You're not natural!" she cried. "Whisky and soda!"
"Well, I don't know," he protested mildly, helping himself from
the table in the background. "I rather thought I was being
particularly British. When in doubt, take a drink. That is
Richard all the world over, you know."
She broke into a little mirthless laugh.
"I shall begin to think that you are a poseur!" she exclaimed.
He crossed the room towards her.
"Perhaps I am, dear," he confessed.
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