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“
John
was
so
kind
as
to
break
that
to
me
this
morning
.
”
“
Well
,
what
do
you
think
?
”
I
asked
feebly
.
“
Of
what
?
”
“
Of
the
arrest
?
”
“
What
should
I
think
?
Apparently
he
is
a
German
spy
;
so
the
gardener
had
told
John
.
”
Her
face
and
voice
were
absolutely
cold
and
expressionless
.
Did
she
care
,
or
did
she
not
?
She
moved
away
a
step
or
two
,
and
fingered
one
of
the
flower
vases
.
“
These
are
quite
dead
.
I
must
do
them
again
.
Would
you
mind
moving
—
thank
you
,
Mr
.
Hastings
.
”
And
she
walked
quietly
past
me
out
of
the
window
,
with
a
cool
little
nod
of
dismissal
.
No
,
surely
she
could
not
care
for
Bauerstein
.
No
woman
could
act
her
part
with
that
icy
unconcern
.
