Without Jack, it was certain that she faced danger if she went outside Golden Square. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. Say something. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. By policemen one mustn’t shock.
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