The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. " Ruth turned back toward the stairs. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ‘You will arrest me? For—for—’ ‘Trespass, theft and spying,’ snapped Hilary. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. The ward in which he was confined, was about six yards in length, and three in width, and in height, might be about twelve feet.
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