‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. 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. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. ” Anna gave her address to the driver. The two girls put on shoes and started walking towards the north side of town. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. . Loneliness. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. “I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. Then she went into the office. It had ceased to beat. " "I was never going to tell anybody," she added.
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