Eleven
“Ramsay,” said Colin, thoughtfully.
“What about him?”
“I like the sound of him, that’s all. He travels abroad—at a moment’s notice. His wife says he’sa construction engineer, but that’s all she seems to know about him.”
“She’s a nice woman,” said Hardcastle.
“Yes—and not a very happy one.”
“Tired, that’s all. Kids are tiring.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“Surely the sort of person you want wouldn’t be burdened with a wife and two sons,”
Hardcastle said sceptically.
“You never know,” said Colin. “You’d be surprised what some of the boys do for camouflage².
A hard-up widow with a couple of kids might be willing to come to an arrangement.”
“I shouldn’t have thought she was that kind,” said Hardcastle primly³.
“I don’t mean living in sin, my dear fellow. I mean that she’d agree to be Mrs. Ramsay andsupply a background. Naturally, he’d spin her a yarn⁴ of the right kind. He’d be doing a spot ofespionage, say, on our side. All highly patriotic⁵.”
Hardcastle shook his head.
“You live in a strange world, Colin,” he said.
“Yes we do. I think, you know, I’ll have to get out of it one day … One begins to forget what iswhat and who is who. Half of these people work for both sides and in the end they don’t knowthemselves which side they are really on. Standards get gummed up—Oh, well—let’s get on withthings.”
“We’d better do the McNaughtons,” said Hardcastle, pausing at the gates of 63. “A bit of hisgarden touches 19—same as Bland⁶.”
“What do you know about the McNaughtons?”
“Not much—they came here about a year ago. Elderly couple—retired professor, I believe. Hegardens.”
The front garden had rose bushes in it and a thick bed of autumn crocus under the windows.
A cheerful young woman in a brightly flowered overall opened the door to them and said:
“You want?—Yes?”

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