Explore "The King Diamond" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Half an hour later, Bly turned in to a general sports emporium in Windover-street. Over the door in neat letters was printed the name of one Martin Cotswold, and in the big cavernous shop that individual himself was attending to an aristocratic customer. For Cotswold was a mighty hunter himself and had killed big game all over the world, indeed, there was hardly a pastime in the realm of sport in which he did not shine as an expert.
He had started his business in Windover-street soon after the war and, with a reputation, like his, speedily built up a prosperous and wide-spreading business. He was a man not particularly conspicuous looking, spare and clean-shaven, and slightly grey about the temples. A man who would not be noticed in a crowd, which fact Cotswold had frequently discovered to be an asset, because, during the Great War, he had been engaged in the Intelligence Department of his Majesty's Forces operating against the enemy in German East Africa.