Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. But days had now passed. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well.
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