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. “We are the species,” said Miss Miniver, “men are only incidents. This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here. I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. An uncomfortable silence followed. The boy was right.
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