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. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. "Wasn't he in some way connected with the Jacobite plots?" "He was," replied Thames. “Don’t you care for Mr. I have two Malay clerks in the store; but I'm obliged to have a white man to watch over them, or they'd clean me out. He turned to Ruth and McClintock. Stay! I'll go myself. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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