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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"


Clayton was doubtful. If he could have conferred with Dunbar he
would have felt more comfortable, but Dunbar was away on some
mysterious errand connected with the Military Intelligence
Department. He sat considering, tapping on his desk with the
handle of his pen. Of course things were different now. A good
many Germans whose sympathies had, as between the Fatherland and
the Allies, been with Germany, were now driven to a decision
between the land they had left and the land they had adopted. And
behind Herman there were thirty years of good record.
"Where is the daughter?"
"I don't know. She left some weeks ago. It's talk around the plant
that he beat her up, and she got out. Those Germans don't know the
first thing about how to treat women."
"Then she is not in Weaver's office?"
There was more talk in the offices than Hutchinson repeated.
Graham's fondness for Anna, her slavish devotion to him, had been
pretty well recognized. He wondered if Clayton knew anything about
it, or the further gossip that Graham knew where Anna Klein had been
hiding.


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