Explore "The Golden Bat" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Barle glanced round the great, blue drawing-room, with its noble proportions and vast spaces, and a grim, humorous light came into his eyes. This was the sort of intricate problem that his soul loved. He whistled ever so softly between his teeth.
"So, ho!" he murmured. "Then we really are getting to grips at last.