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 considered. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. This was good. "He can't escape. She did not resist him, she could not. \"Thank you.
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