Strong. "With all the men off to war you'll
find young women doing all kinds of funny things to work off their
energy. If a girl can't be husband-hunting, she's got to be doing
something to keep busy. There are worse things than trying to write
novels. Jane is all right. Let her alone."
So, even though her mother's suspicions had been aroused, the girl in
the next few days managed to spend many hours with her ears glued to the
receiver of the dictograph without being discovered. In the Hoffs'
apartment Dean had succeeded in locating it over the dining-room table,
concealed in the chandelier, and in Jane's room the other end rested in
the back of a dresser drawer that she always carefully locked
when absent.
The novelty of listening for bits of her neighbors' conversation
quickly wore off. To sit almost motionless for hours listening,
listening intently for every sound, hearing occasional words spoken
either in too low tones or too far distant to make them understandable,
to record bits of conversation that sounded harmless, yet might have
some sinister meaning, became a most laborious task. Yet persistently
Jane stuck at it. The greater knowledge she gained of the plottings of
the German agents, the more important and vital she realized it was for
every clue to be diligently followed in the hope that the trail might at
last reach the master-spy, whose manifold activities were
menacing America.
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