“‘She is not tired, I hope?’ I said.
“‘Tired! She said she was never tired. She said she would have walked the whole way if there had been time; but of course she was delayed by last night’s storm. So she was glad of the lift, and I dropped her at the cross roads above Riffle station. That was a splendid woman, Gerald.’
“I turned cold.
“‘Do you mean to say she’s gone?’
“‘Yes. She sails for South America on Tuesday. I forget why she said she was going.’
“‘And what was her name?’
“‘I haven’t an idea.’
“‘Anna, you don’t mean to say you let her go without finding out her name and address?’
“‘I never thought of such a thing. She never asked any questions about me, and I didn’t ask any about her. Why should I? What does her name matter?’”
Sinclair groaned.