Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. She has not been accused of any crime. ‘But it is idiot. ” “Then I didn’t waste my time in prison altogether?” “It wasn’t the prison impressed me. “The sooner you tell me the better. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. ’ ‘It’s no use you being superior,’ said Roding severely. “Actually, I am, it is terribly stupid. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.
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