The girl hesitated for a moment, then lifted her heavy eyes to his.
‘I have no home,’ she said.
It was a very forlorn answer, and it went to Wyndham’s heart. God help her, poor girl! whoever she was. He glanced again at her clothes, which were decidedly above the average of the extremely wretched, and he was conscious of a certain curiosity with regard to her—a distinctly kindly one.
The girl caught the glance and turned away her head.
‘You can at least say where you want to be driven,’ said he gravely, but with sympathy; he hesitated for a moment, and then went on. ‘No questions will be asked,’ he said.
She made no answer to this, and while he waited for one the Professor broke in impatiently:
‘Come, girl, speak! Where do you want to go? Where do you live?’
On this followed another shorter silence, and then at last she spoke.
‘I shall not go back,’ she said. Her tone was low, but defiant, and very firm.
‘That means you will not tell,’ said the Professor. ‘Then go—do you hear—go! You are interrupting us here.’ He motioned towards the door, where Denis stood mute as a sentinel; he was, indeed, an old soldier, for the matter of that.