You know this very well, Penelope, because you have already been of service to us on more than one occasion." "It was a long time ago," she murmured.
"Not so very long," he reminded her.

"But for the first of these tragedies, Fynes' despatches would have reached me through you.

I am going to ask your help even once more." In the somewhat cold spring sunlight which came streaming through the large window, Penelope seemed a little pallid, as though, indeed, the fatigue of the season, even in this its earlier stages, were leaving its mark upon her.

There were violet rims under her eyes.

A certain alertness seemed to have deserted her usually piquant face.