"You told me you were tramping to Cornwall."
"So I was."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Earning a living."
Arbroath turned sharply on Mary.
"Is that true?"
"Of course it is true,"—she replied—"Why should he tell you a lie?"
"Does he lodge with you?"
"Yes."
Arbroath paused a moment, his little brown eyes sparkling vindictively.