The Midnight Visitor

The Midnight Visitor
Ausable did not fit the description of any secret agent. Fowler had ever read about. Following him down the corridor of the old French hotel where Ausable had a room, buy wow goldFowler felt disappointed. It was a small room, on the sixth and top floor and hardly a setting for a romantic figure.
　　 Ausable was, for one thing, fat. Very fat. Very fat. And then there was his accent. Though he spoke French and German fairly well, buy wow goldhe had never altogether lost the New England accent he had brought to Pairs from Boston twenty years ago.
　　 “You are disappointed,” Ausable said over his shoulder. “You were told that I was a secret agent, a spy. You wished to meet me because you are a writer, young and romantic. You expected mysterious figures in the right, the crack of pistols, drugs in the wine.”
　　 “Instead, you have spent a whole evening in a French music hall with a dirtylooking fat man who, instead of having messages slipped into his hand by dark -- eyed beauties, gets only an ordinary telephone call making an appointment in his room. You have been bored!” buy wow goldThe fat man laughted quietly as he unlocked the door of his room and stood aside to let his guest enter.
　　 “Soon you will see a paper, a quite important paper for which several men and women have risked their lives, come to me in the nexttolast step of its journey into official hands. Some day that paper may well affect the course of history. In that thought is drama, is there not?” As he spoke, Ausable closed the door behind him. Then he turned on the light.
　　 And as the light came on, Fowler had his first shock of the day. For halfway across the room,buy wow gold a small pistol in his hand, stood a man. Ausable blinked a few times.
　　 “The report,” he said in a quiet voice. “The report that is being brought to you tonight about some new missiles. I thought I would take it from you. It will be safer in my hands than in yours.”