CHAPTER XX. “I guess I’m not the only one who wonders about your past. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. The clock struck half-past ten. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it.
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