'It's Madge here!'
The girl panted for her voice.
'Mr. Woodseer, I'm glad; I thought I should have to wait hours. She's safe.'
'Where?'
'Will you come, sir?'
'Step ahead.'
Madge set forth to north of the square.
He judged of the well-favoured girl that she could steer her way through cities: mouth and brows were a warning to challenger pirate craft of a vessel carrying guns; and the red lips kept their firm line when they yielded to the pressure for speech.
'It's a distance. She's quite safe, no harm; she's a prisoner; she's well fed; she's not ill treated.'
'You 're out?'