'Which way?'
'Oh, down the Carmarthen road, seure.'
'You'll excuse my hurrying on, Mrs Davies; I want to call at Lewis, Dryslwyn.'
'To be seure. Good morning, Mr Prothero.'
The worthy farmer rode off at a gallop, till he was more than out of sight of Mrs Davies. He stopped at a tidy cottage to speak to an old woman who was washing at the door.
'Did you chance to see a strange young 'ooman go by here yesterday, early?' he asked.
'What young 'ooman?' was the rejoinder.
'Rather shabbily dressed, with blue eyes, and a very pale face?'
'Had she a big black dog along, sir?' asked a boy who came from within the house.
'I think she had.'