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. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. This whole affair is truly my fault. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. Things seem to come rather easily. Wood required little pressing.
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