"A friend," was the reply.
"What do you want"
"Shelter for a few hours, a bite to eat, and—I will tell you more anon."
"These are dreadful times, and I am not in the habit of taking strangers in at this hour of the night."
"All right," said he on the outside; then added with the glibness of a Fourth of July stump speaker, "that is, if you can reconcile it with your conscience to turn the cold shoulder on a fellow being in the desperate strait I am in."
"Where did you come from?" was next asked.
"From those who are wandering up and down the earth, seeking how they may devour me."
"Where are you going to?"
"Destination unknown. Depends somewhat on yourself."
Without another word, Mrs. Marsden turned the lamp down low, and hurried towards the front hall door.