"For what?" "I had the paper with me. “What did it matter?” she cried. Footman or some such. 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. ’ Roding blinked. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about.
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