Betty shook her head.
"I don't think so," she smiled. "At least, I do not remember seeing you anywhere."
"Well, don't you come here often, to the station, or somethin'?" persisted the woman.
"No, I have never been here before—except the day I arrived in town last September."
"H-m; funny!" frowned the woman musingly. "I'm a great case fur faces, an' I don't very often make a mistake. I could swear I'd seen you somewheres."
Betty smiled and shook her head again, as she turned away with her magazine.
Twice after that Mr. Denby had sent her to this same newsstand for a desired periodical; and on both occasions the woman had been cheerfully insistent in her questions, and in her reiterations that somewhere she certainly had seen her, as she never made mistakes in faces.
"An' yer workin' fur Burke Denby on the hill, ain't ye?" she asked at last.
Betty colored.
"I am working for Mr. Denby—yes."