There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. “I wonder if it is. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. E. He has had brain fever since, and, as you say, I am more like what you were then than you yourself are now. He entered the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. 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 required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own.
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