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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"


Chilcote started and opened his eyes. "I--I believe I was
dozing," he said, confusedly.
Fraide smiled his dry, kindly smile. "A fatal admission for a
member of the Opposition," he said. "But I was looking for
you earlier in the day, Chilcote. There is something behind
this Persian affair. I believe it to be a mere first move on
Russia's part. You big trading people will find it worth
watching."
Chilcote shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I don't know," he said.
"I scarcely believe in it. Lakely put a match to the powder
in the 'St. George's', but 'twill only be a noise and a puff
of smoke."
But Fraide did not smile. "What is the feeling down at Wark?"
he asked. "Has it awakened any interest?"
"At Wark? Oh, I--I don't quite know. I have been a little
out of touch with Wark in the last few weeks. A man has so
many private affairs to look to--" He was uneasy under his
chief's scrutiny.
Fraide's lips parted as if to make reply, but with a certain
dignified reticence he closed them again and turned away.


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