Stewart’s heart gave a leap of fear; but after a stare at the officer, she turned to her companion.
“Was he speaking to me, Tommy?” she asked; and it was only by a heroic effort that Stewart choked back the sudden snort of laughter that rose in his throat.
“Yes,” he managed to answer; “he wants to know your maiden name.”
“Why should he wish to know that?”
“I give it up; but you’d better tell him.”
“My maiden name was Mary Agnes Fleming,” she said, looking at the officer with evident disapprobation. “Though what concern it is of yours I cannot see.”
“What does she say?” demanded the officer, and again Stewart translated literally.
The officer stood staring intently at both of them, till the lady, with a flash of indignation, turned her back.
“Really, Tommy,” she said, over her shoulder, “if you do not at once get rid of this brute, I shall never speak to you again!”
“He is a policeman, dear,” Stewart explained, “and imagines that he is doing his duty. I suppose they do have to be careful in war-time. We must be patient.”