Madge went to the window. The man in the road was lounging lazily along with an air of indifference which was almost too marked to be real. He gave a backward glance as he went. At sight of Madge he quickened his pace.
"Is that the man who is watching you?"
"Yes, I--I fancy it is."
"You fancy? Don't you know?"
"It is the man."
"He is shorter than you--smaller altogether. Compared to you he is a dwarf. Why are you afraid of him?"
Either the question itself, or the tone in which it was asked, brought the blood back into his cheeks.
"I did not say I was afraid."
"No? Then if you are not afraid, why should you have been so anxious to avoid him as to seek refuge, on so shallow a pretext, in a stranger's house?"
The intruder bit his lip. His manner was sullen.