" The little girl's countenance fell. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. 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'm glad to find I'm right. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls.
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