Fred M. White, Autumn Manœuvres
“ Sutton said hurriedly. "By the love you once bore me, I implore you to be discreet. The fate of a nation may hang upon your silence. Tell Traske nothing. So long as you get him outside, I shall be satisfied. The mere fact that he is my hated rival does not mean that his life is in danger. Not so much as a hair of his precious eyeglass shall be injured. Is it a bet?" "I detest the man," Madge whispered. ”
