” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city. 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.
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