Explore "A Secret Service" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
About the same time that Ida reached Covent Garden, John Glasgow's taxi pulled up in front of the famous costumier's, almost within a stone's throw of the building where the dance was taking place. If Glasgow was in a hurry he did not show it, for he strolled into the establishment with the air of one who is in two minds whether he should go on with his project or not. An attendant came forward and asked his business.
"Well," he said, "I thought of going to the dance next door, but it's late, and I must be satisfied with something simple in the way of costume--dignitary of the Church or something of that sort. No, stop!--I had forgotten that a disguise is necessary. I must have beard and plenty of hair on my face. Can you suggest a dress that would not interfere with the freedom of my limbs? I may be called away at any moment, and must be able to leave at once without exciting any notice or comment."