“You know me? I knew we had met. But I couldn’t——”
“You don’t remember Lyman & Fourget, in New Orleans?”
“Of course. I worked in their salesrooms and repair shop.”
“I was in the office. I recognized you at once when we passed you the other day on the road. But I don’t suppose you noticed me.”
“Of course!” said Lockwood slowly. “Of course, I remember now.”
Really he remembered very hazily. Miss Power must have been one of those girls, stenographers and bookkeepers, in the glass-inclosed office in one corner of the main floor.
“Of course. I remember you perfectly now,” he said, not quite truthfully. “Strange that I didn’t place you at first. How did you remember my name? Of course, you’re Miss Power. I guessed that anyway.”
“Yes, everybody knows me about here.” She looked at him with candid curiosity. “I reckon everybody knows you by this time. Strangers are rare, you know. What are you doing up here in the woods?”
“I’m a turpentine man, too—I’m all kinds of a man. The fact is, I wanted to get out of the city for the summer. I’ve been in Mobile and Pensacola. I left New Orleans late last fall.”
“Yes, I left not very long after you did. I was glad to get out of New Orleans, too, and papa wanted me to come home.”