She went out into the street.
Then the detective spoke to her.
“You are a stranger to me,” she said coldly, with an air of affronted dignity.
“I am not such a stranger as you think, Miss Ferris. We have met several times,” Carter rejoined.
“I don’t seem to remember you.”
“Perhaps not, in this rig. Will you come up to Sherton’s with me and have some supper? I want to talk with you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Nicholas Carter.”
“Why, I——”
“You need not be afraid.”