"Are you Meg Ross?" he asked, amused at her manner.
"That's me! I'm known all over the countryside for the sharpest tongue as ever wagged in a woman's head. So you'd better look out!"
"I'm not afraid of you!" he said smiling.
"Well, you might be if you knew me!" and she whipped up her pony smartly. "Howsomever, you're old enough to be past hurtin' or bein' hurt."
"That's true!" he responded gently.
She was silent after this, and not till Watchett was reached did she again begin conversation. Rattling quickly through the little watering-place, which at this hour seemed altogether deserted or asleep, she pulled up at an inn in the middle of the principal street.
"I've got an order to deliver here," she said. "What are you going to do with yourself?"
"Nothing in particular," he answered, with a smile. "I shall just take my little dog to a chemist's and get its paw dressed, and then I shall walk on."
"Don't you want any dinner?"
"Not yet. I had a good breakfast, I daresay I'll have a glass of milk presently."