The headstrong and quick-witted filing clerk turned intrepid wartime spy Fiona Figg’s second adventure has her hopping to the continent and sampling the wares of Paris, which even in the straits of WWI was bustling far merrier than dreary old London. “Think of all those unfortunate women on the Titanic who waved away the dessert cart.” She winked. “If anything, the war teaches us to savor the moment.” She tightened the strings on her purse. The only thing an admirer ever gave me was a head cold. Sitting behind his mammoth wooden desk, eyelids flicking, the petite Captain Hall looked like a turtle encased in its shell. And if the reverse were true, the slobs in this office had the souls of monks. My father liked to say, outward order conceals inward turmoil. I needed to straighten my desk and get my files in order.
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