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. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. I suppose the phrase—the word—originally meant a man who searched for food on the beach. He was unable to possess Lucy's hand as he had in the cinema, separated by the annoying chasm between the van's plush seats. You refuse me your confidence. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. That dress is thirty years old, if a day. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. "'Sblood! what's this!" cried Jonathan, in the utmost surprise. . " All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts.
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