I didn’t ought to have sent for him. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid. 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.
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