Ed. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Sudden indignation boiled up in him. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. ‘Do not be foolish. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. There'll be busy days and idle. 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. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill.
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