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. “Nothing was ever done,” Miss Brett asserted, “without a certain element of Faith. They are for serving me. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. ” “Never,” he exclaimed vehemently. They got on wonderfully well together. The Wastrel did not relish this. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge.
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