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. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. Your family has not sullied itself by dabbling in it, at least not 173 from what I know, so now is not the time to begin. It was the first expression of the mother's blood. " "Afraid?" "Yes. “He naturally does not wish for connexions which are—I do not wish to hurt you feelings, Anna, but I must say it—not altogether desirable.
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