She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. 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 know where everything valuable is kept. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. Ray did not pace, he just stood. But nothing followed to indicate that the liquid had stimulated the heart. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. She was nestled under his bedspread.
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