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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. But look at these glorious daisies!” “But don’t you think political questions ARE important?” “I don’t think they are this afternoon, and I don’t think they are to you. She wanted to kiss his feet. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. " And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile.
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