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. Understand me. With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three. " Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. “Why not? It might amuse me.
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