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 thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. " And then his interest would cease. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. ‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. The black, meantime, began to ply his hammer, and speedily unriveted the chains.
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