The shot had taken effect upon the waterman who rowed the chase. Then she went below. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. She hesitated. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. 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. Whatever you need to do, it is your business. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ‘You can’t prove nothing.
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