“No,” said Ned; “but the answer to a riddle.”
The man fondled a beam, grimacing.
“It is all one,” said he. “Here is the oracle.”
“I believe it is,” said Ned; “only I am not yet sure of the question;” and he turned away.
He breakfasted at a café, made a particular little purchase to which he was whimsically attracted, and returned about mid-day to his chambers.
They struck very cold and quiet. There did not seem a sound in the house. He entered his sitting-room and closed the door. The girl was crouched in her old place upon the rug. She looked up at him mutely as he went by her, without a word, to the fire.
He let a minute pass while he warmed himself. Then he said, not turning his head—
“You want to speak to me?”
“Oh yes, yes!” she answered at once and eagerly; “to thank you for these.”
“The clothes? You needn’t thank me. It was my own interests I consulted in giving them to you. Your rags would have been no recommendation to a possible employer.”