“You have no right to question me, sir,” she said, coldly, drawing away, only to be lurched back again. In spite of herself she laughed audibly.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, tantalizingly.
“When did he give it you?”
“Who?”
“The porter, sir.”
“You have no right to question me,” he said.
“Oh!” she gasped. “I did not mean to be inquisitive.”
“But I grant the right. He gave it me inside of two hours after I first entered the car.”
“At Denver?”
“How do you know I got on at Denver?'