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Heart pounding, Virginia Hall caught her breath and massaged her aching hip. “That was a close call. Cuthbert, you’re always causing trouble.”
“You’ve named your wooden leg?” Virginia’s fellow agent, Armand, found a table in a darkened tavern. “Here. Rest fast.”
She forced a smile. “I was sure the Gestapo recognized me from the poster.”
“The artist certainly captured your likeness. But your disguise is good.”
“Perhaps not good enough.”
The tavern keeper brought two glasses of wine.
“It is my honor to serve with you.” Armand raised his glass. “To the lady who limps. Most dangerous of Allied spies.”