“Why?” he asked, suavely. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. ’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand. 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. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. ” “The point to note is that fundamentally you don’t want particularly to do it. ” “It is ironic that you say that, John, for it is I who am afraid of you. ” She said. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us.
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