It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. 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. Drawing the pay of life and then not living. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. They were suddenly thrown aside, and a man stepped out from his hiding-place. He could not doubt it.
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