“The person you met.”
“I met no one.”
The runner shook his head gently. And his face grew longer.
“For God’s sake, miss,” he said earnestly, “don’t fence with me. Don’t take that line! Believe me, if you do you’ll be sorry. Time’s the thing. Tell us now and it may avail. Tell us to-morrow and it may be of no use. The harm may be done.”
She stared at him. “But I met no one,” she said.
“There are the footprints, coming and going,” he answered with severity. “It is no use to deny them.”
“A man’s—with mine?”
“For certain.”
She looked at him with a startled expression. But gradually her face cleared, she smiled.
“Ah,” she said. “Just so. You have the man’s tracks coming and going? And mine?”