"Very good train, that," continued Matherfield. "We got to Southampton just before eight—a minute or two late. I was wanting something to eat and drink by that time, and I was glad to see my lady turn into the refreshment-room as soon as she left her carriage. So did I. I knew she'd never suspect a quiet, ordinary man like me; if she deigned to give me a glance—she's a very haughty-looking woman, I observed—she'd only take me for a commercial traveller. And we were not so far off each other in that room; she sat at a little table, having some tea and so on: I was at the counter. Of course, I never showed that I was taking any notice of her—but I got in two or three good, comprehensive inspections. Very good-looking, no doubt of it, Mr. Hetherwick—a woman that's worn well! But of course you've seen that for yourself."
"You must remember that I've only seen her twice," remarked Hetherwick, with a laugh. "Once at Victoria, when Miss Hannaford pointed her out; once night before last, when it was by a poorish gaslight. But I'll take your word, Matherfield. Well, and what happened next?"
"Oh, she took her time over her tea and toast," continued Matherfield. "Very leisured in all her movements, I assure you. At last she moved off—of course I followed, casually and carelessly. Now, as you may be aware, Southampton West, where the train set us down, is a bit out of the town, and I expected her to take a cab. But she didn't; she walked away from the station. So did I—twenty or thirty yards in the rear. She took her time; it seemed to me she was purposely loitering. It struck me at last why—she was waiting until the business offices were open. I was right in that: as soon as the town clocks struck nine she quickened her pace and made a beeline for her objective. And what do you think that was?"
"No idea," said Hetherwick.
"White Star offices!" answered Matherfield. "Went straight there, and walked straight in! Of course, I waited outside, where she wouldn't see me when she came out again. She was in there about twenty minutes. When she came out she turned to another part of the town. And near that old gateway, or bar, or whatever it is that stands across the street, I lost her—altogether!"
"Some exceptional reason, I should think, Matherfield," remarked Hetherwick. "How was it?"
"My own stupid fault!" growled Matherfield. "Took my eye off her in a particularly crowded part—the town was beginning to get very busy. I just happened to let my attention be diverted—and she was gone! At first I made certain she'd gone into some shop. I looked into several—risky as that was—but I couldn't find her. I hung about; no good. Then I came to the conclusion that she'd turned down one of the side streets or alleys or passages—there were several about there—and got clean away. And after hanging around a bit, and going up one street and down another—a poor job in our business at the best of times and all dependent on mere luck!—I decided to make a bold stroke and be sure of at any rate something."
"What? How?" asked Hetherwick.
"I thought I'd find out what she'd gone to the White Star offices for," replied Matherfield. "Of course, I didn't want to raise any suspicion against her under the circumstances. But I flatter myself I'm a bit of a diplomatist, and I laid my plans. I went in there, got hold of a clerk who was a likely looking chap for secret keeping, told him who I was and showed my credentials, and asked him for the information I wanted. I got it. As luck would have it, my man had attended to her himself and remembered her quite well. Of course, little more than an hour and a half had passed since she'd been in there."
"And—what had she been in for?" asked Hetherwick. "What did you hear?"