" Mr. 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. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. “To think that you were going to do it—and never said a word! You are a little thin, but except for that you look—you look better than ever. They must have a key. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park.
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