"Never saw anyone in my cab, you didn't."
"Oh, come unstuck, will you. The little lady's all right. She's not the sort to go blabbing even if you did give an odd tramp a lift."
"Harrogate isn't a tramp."
"Who is he, then?" asked Erica.
"He's a china merchant. Traveling."
"Oh, I know. A blue-and-white bowl in exchange for a rabbit skin."
"No. Nothing like that. Mends teapot handles and such."
"Oh. Does he make much?" This for the sake of keeping the driver on the subject.
"Enough to be going on with. And he cadges an old coat or a pair of boots now and then."
Erica said nothing for a moment, and she wondered if the thumping of her heart was as audible to these two men as it was in her ears. An old coat, now and then. What should she say now? She could not say: Did he have a coat the day you saw him? That would be a complete giveaway.