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. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. " "Well, Sir," gasped Mrs. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. You didn’t even put the twelve words. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. ” Ennison nodded.
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