Controlling her voice tolerably, she asked directly: "How did you get up again without my seeing you?"
"Simply enough--by the steps of the place next door. I saw you watching me--saw your head over the edge of the landing, black against the sky--and knew I'd never know who it was, unless by strategy. So I came up the other way and cut across to head you off."
He added, after a pause, with a semi-apologetic air: "What do you mean by it, anyway'?"
"What--?"
"Watching me this way--spying on me--?"
"But I didn't mean to. I was as surprised to see you as you were, just now, to see me."
"Honestly?"
His eyes searched hers suspiciously. Flushing, she endeavoured to assume some little dignity--drew up, lifted her chin, resumed possession of her hand.
"Of course," she said in an injured voice.
"Sure Mrs.--sure nobody sent you to spy on me?"