You won’t want to be late the first evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now. “We suspect that Mary is alive, and we think she will try to contact you if she ever tracks you down. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. 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 dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. “I’m covered.
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