“I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. She looked steadfastly out. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used.
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