“Walked,” said the man sadly.
“When?”
“Last—night,” sighed the stranger, uttering the first word in quite a high-pitched tone, the second sounding almost like a groan.
He was very shabbily dressed—just an old flannel shirt and a pair of fustian trousers, while his head was covered by one of the regular, broad-brimmed, flop felt hats so common amongst Englishmen for protection from the sun.
“Well, you are a cheerful looking gentleman,” thought Mark, and he had hard work on meeting his cousin’s eye to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. Then a sudden thought struck him.
“When did you say you came here?”
“Last—night?”
“What time?”
“No watch,” said the man. “Quite dark.”
“But what did you come for?”