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. " "I thought as much," sneered Mrs. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. I thought every one had heard about it. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. She could not explain in words why they disappointed her or that she was disappointed.
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