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. As absurd as that you take this interest in my affairs. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. "Oh! you did, did you?" said the janizary.
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