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. Love…. He was extremely loyal to you. She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. “No thanks, Cathy. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. He remained talking with her however. " "He must," exclaimed Jack, hastily; "but only let me have it till to-morrow, and if I don't entrap him in a snare from which, with all his cunning, he shall find it difficult to escape, my name's not Jack Sheppard.
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