” It was sitting in her suitcase in the same pocket as the expired bus tickets. ’ ‘A dagger, is it then?’ The girl froze. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. "It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. "There is no fee," said Dolby.
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