The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation.
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