05/14/2020 Snippet, MARIE AND THE CONTINENT.

I may need to add scenes before this one.


The call came for us in Paris. I should like to say that I received it while drinking absinthe in a bar with wonderfully disreputable companions, but in truth Magda and I were at our offices in a nameless agency in the 2nd arrondissement. Alas, paperwork is a ever-present and unwelcome companion to the confidential agent, and it cannot be stymied with clever machinations.

The telegram was innocuous on the surface, and had no hidden meaning underneath it, either. Indeed, it touched on legitimate business for our office. Business that would be left to my colleagues, for the real message was in the sender’s address; misspelled that way, it signaled that I was to return to England at the earliest opportunity.

I took a moment to consider whether or not this was to include Magda, and then decided to use my own judgment. “Magda,” I said aloud. “Are you packed for our upcoming visit to London?”

Magda looked up from her papers. She wore reading glasses these days, as it was less of a strain than constantly keeping her eyes shifted to perfect vision. “A few things more need arranging, Miss Knight,” she said, just as if we had really been planning a trip back to Old Blighty. “I thought I had days yet to get ready. Is our schedule now advanced?”

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