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. “FAIL!” she said. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. ’ ‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. Jonathan shook his head.
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