" "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. 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. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. She slipped silently inside the door as he went inside a 12 putrid little bathroom to urinate. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. ” “No, that’s okay. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. You've betrayed yourself, Thames.
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