“May I come after and—explain myself?” he asked. “I want you to understand and to feel safe from further shocks of the sort.”
She murmured a confused affirmative and started to feel her way down.
“Do you mind my shining a light?” he asked. “I have an electric flash-light in my pocket, but please don’t think me a professional burglar for all that.”
Alice tried to laugh, though she was still shaken. He lighted her down and out, took her key, locked the door and handed it back to her.
“You live in the house?” he asked.
Alice explained that she lived there with her mother but that they were visiting in the part of the village called South Hollow. She knew that she shouldn’t be saying this to a stranger whom she had found in the upper storey of the shop; but for herself she felt that there are strangers and strangers.
“I know the Hollow,” he said. “I lived about here as a boy. Are you going back now?”
Alice replies that she ought to be, but that she felt as if she must sit down for a little first and would go up to the porch. He accompanied her thither and asked if he might wait. And when she gave the desired permission, he suggested that she get herself a wrap from the house. As she complied with the suggestion, the girl seemed to feel her mother’s horror. He unlocked the door for her and waited on the walk below. When she came out and dropped down upon one settee, he seated himself opposite.
“I want to apologise for my thoughtlessness which might have had serious consequences,” he said quietly. “And I give you my word that I will not come near the place again so that you needn’t feel nervous about coming in at any time. And—neither need your mother. I suppose you will tell her?”
“No, I don’t think I will,” said the girl slowly. “It would frighten her unnecessarily and what’s the use?”