"Thank you.... Then—I won't trouble you.... I'll—I'll ta-t-take it back myself—when I go North."
"I kin ship it if you wishes, Miss."
She said excitedly: "If you ship it from somewhere South, he—Mr. Green—would see where it came from by the parcels postmark on the express tag—wouldn't he?"
"Yaas, Miss."
"Then I don't want you to ship it! I'll do it myself.... How can I ship it without giving Mr. Green a clue—" she shuddered, "—a clue to my whereabouts?"
"Does you know de gemman, Miss?"
"No!" she said, with another shudder,—"and I do not wish to. I—I particularly do not wish ever to know him—or even to see him. And above all I do not wish Mr. Green to come South and[215] investigate the circumstances concerning this overcoat. He might take it into his head to do such a thing. It—it's horrible enough that I have—that I actually have in my possession the overcoat of the very man on whose account I left New York at ten minutes' notice——"
Her pretty voice broke and her eyes filled.
"You—you don't understand, porter," she added, almost hysterically, "but my possession of this overcoat—of all the billions and billions of overcoats in all the world—is a t-terrible and astounding b-blow to me!"
"Is—is you afeard o' dishere overcoat, Miss?" inquired the astonished darkey.