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. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. Then pain entered their depths. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. Don't you see they're putting on their cloaks?" "That's false!" rejoined Marvel, in a low tone; "I perceive what has taken place. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house. He was also aware that all his arguments would shatter themselves against her resolutions.
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