“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. The effects of the heroin wore off slowly. 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. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. ’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. ” “But you thought you could forget him. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up.
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