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. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is degradation—making a fuss with sleeves. Spurling and Marvel.
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