Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. 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. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. His hand flew across the paper. “You are so inherently gallant, John, so pure of heart.
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