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. "Pigs and fish, to fend off the visitations of the devil. Anyhow, now you’ve begun it, there’s nothing to keep us in all this from being the best friends in the world. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips.
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