"Dat she ain't!"
"What! Where is she?"
Susan looked at him, her black eyes in her wrinkled face still as pools of ink and as fathomless.
"I dunno," she lied.
"When did she go?"
"Yestiddy."
Light was breaking in on the young man, light and darkness; light as to the deserted air of the house, darkness as to Frances and her motives.
"And you don't know where she went?" He stood for a few moments, his eyes on the worn pavement at his feet. Presently his hand slipped again into his pocket. "If you can, tell me where she is," he said suavely; "save me an envelope of a letter, you know."
Susan nodded, comprehension all over her face. He slid a bill into her hand. One quick glance out of the tail of her eye showed Susan the V in the corner. Tremulous with delight she clasped her hands over her treasure under her apron.