»Your name?«
»I shall not say. I shall not answer any questions at all.«
»All right, sir, all right,« the superintendent replied ironically, but somewhat abashed. Then he looked again at the naked hairy feet and at the girl shuddering in the corner, and suddenly became suspicious.
»Is this the right man?« he said, taking a detective aside. »Something seems....«
The detective went and stared closely in the man's face, then nodded his head decisively.
»Yes. It's he. He's only shaved his beard. You can recognise him by his cheekbones.«
»A brigand's cheekbones, sure enough.«
»And look at the eyes, too. I could pick him out of a thousand by his eyes.«
»His eyes? Let me see the photograph.«
He took a long look at the unfinished proof photograph of a man, very handsome, wonderfully pure and young, with a long bushy Russian beard. The expression on the face was the same. Not grim, but very calm and bright. The cheekbones were not markedly prominent.