You must forgive the poet’s license I take. He might have been a complete innocent, she did not know and did not bother to find out. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. 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. "It is your son. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one.
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