She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. ‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are. Give me my pistol and my dagger. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. And I need not tell you that her hotel bill is running on the same as yours. ’ She tossed her head.
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