But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. “We don’t let to ladies,” they said. Carp, tench, and roach were so divided that even the fins, heads and fleshless spines were sold. ‘But a spy I am not.
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