Sentence The Fivehundredandninetyfourth

"Alfred, Jeez it's about time," said the Bureau Chief, standing to welcome the small party as they entered his office, then promptly sitting down again behind his desk, on which a desk lamp spilt a pool of light; he wore a green eyeshade, and was jacketless, a cigar between his teeth: "have you got

the gen?" he asked, and his eyes lit up when Prufrock nodded, then pointed to Palestrina: "it's all in this young lady's noodle, she's got a wow of a memory, and knows it off pat," Palestrina blushed slightly, acknowledging that to claim any credit for a skill she had been born with and certainly not wishing to be a cockalorum, would be to her own discredit, the colour adding a glow to her face; "okay guys, nice to hear you're a modest broad – something I don't think I've encountered before – but we ain't got Methusalah's lifetime, so I'll give you the behoof of the Agency's facilities and get a morse operator up here now, it's gotta go to London immediately, if we're gonna meet the Generals deadline, and get them a reply in time," Gertie looked from one to the other, wondering how many were in the know about this, because it seemed to be so well-known that it could hardly be called Top Secret! then a small, pretty woman entered the office, so quietly that it was only because Gertie's eyes were already on the door that she noticed her; she walked – or crept – silently, to a small table at the side of the room and took her seat in front of a piece of equipment that Gertie recognised because she had watched dramas about spies during the Second World War on television or at the pictures: it was a radio transmitter, about the size of a small suitcase and there was a little attachment connected by wires to the main box, this – Gertie realised – was the key for tapping out a message in Morse
Code; she began to feel quite excited about her minor involvement in a major piece of pre-war espionage and wondered if this mission would indeed result in the removal of Hitler and the avoidance of war, if it would save the lives of the six million Jews and millions of others who she knew had died during that six-year tragedy; Palestrina sat just beside the woman, now wearing a set of head-phones, who introduced herself as Tamara Knight, which Gertie thought very dashing until she realised that it was probably a cover name: Tomorrow Night indeed! which made her wonder if the other people in the room had cover names as well, and of course, Palestrina did, so it was likely that only she, Gertie, was using her own real name and she wondered if she could have a cover name herself: well, she and Pal were basing themselves on The Dolly Sisters so why not something like . . . . . yes! Dolly Varden! she'd always liked the heroine of Barnaby Rudge and decided at the risk of seeming thrasonical, that it would be the only name she would acknowledge henceforth!