I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. She had eaten them. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. 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. She was a schizophrenic, got locked up later in some sort of state mental ward. ” He glared at Martin.
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