“Who is Miss Carstairs?”
Hilda sat up. “She’s a friend of mine—”
“New?”
“Well, she is—but why do you ask?”
“Tell me what you know about her,” he said seriously.
“I’m afraid I can’t, John,” she replied, after a moment. “I’m under promise not to repeat what she told me.”
“That’s a pity. Where did you meet her? Glasgow?”
“No—on the train, last night.”
“Can’t you tell me where she came from?”
“I think I may tell you that much. Dunford is the name of the village.”