His keen glance searched her out immediately; then he paused, turned, and walked slowly back.
The store was on a corner, and there were two entrances to it—one on the front, one at the side.
Virgie paid for her purchase, then worked her way around, going from counter to counter, until she reached the side entrance, when she went slyly out, waited until she saw a car approaching, hailed it, and in another moment went rolling down the street, believing that she had eluded the keen eyes that were on the watch for her.
Not so, however; for the man, having heard the car stop, darted around the corner, and espied her in it just as it was about turning into another street.
He could not overtake it, and with a muttered expression of annoyance, he was obliged to wait for the next one. But he saw no more of Virgie that day, for she took a transfer, and when about a mile from her home changed cars and at length reached her own door, confident that she had escaped her pursuer for that time.
A day or two afterward she saw a personal in one of the daily papers that both puzzled and alarmed her.
F.V.A., whom I met on the corner of W. and C. streets, will communicate with M.A., Lock Box 95, she will learn something to her advantage.
This was the advertisement, and Virgie knew at once that she had been recognized by that man muffled in the cloak.
"That means me," she said, growing deadly white, "and I was not mistaken. He has come back. How dare he? What can he want of me? But I will never see him. I will have nothing to say to him. I will hide myself from him. It is evident he has not discovered where I live, else he would have been here before this, and I will take care that he does not find me out."
After that she was very careful about going out, always closely veiling her face, and wearing a long circular to conceal her form, when she was obliged to do so, which was not often, as, with rare exceptions, her business with Mr. Knight could be mostly transacted by correspondence.