“Did you ever see Miss Turold?”
“I’ve never see any one of the Flint House folk, though I’ve heerd of them, often enough.”
“Did you notice in which direction this girl went?”
“No. She passed the lamp-post as if she were maakin’ up Market Jew Street, but I suppose she ced ‘ave turned off anywhere to the right or left.”
“What time was it when the wagonette reached the cross-roads on the moor, where she got in?”
“About the same time as to-night, getting on for ten, mebbe.”
“She was quite alone?”
“As lonely as any she ghooste, standin’ theer by the old crass. ‘Twaas because I thought she’d feel feersome that I spoke to her.”
Barrant relapsed into a thoughtful silence which lasted until the wagonette pulled up and his fellow-traveller prepared to alight. Then he turned to him and said—
“Good-night. I may see you again.”