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. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. You’ve got me. Spurlock had been taken aboard that yacht with the Kanaka crew, because The Tigress was the only ship marked for departure that night. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. “I want some advice,” said Ann Veronica. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. “I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed.
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