" "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. 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. She had no intention of fighting fair. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable physiognomy. “You see, daddy, I don’t think it IS preposterous. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull.
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