"How much is the excess fare?" I asked, at the barrier.
"One moment, madam. Stand aside, please, and let the other passengers go through."
For some reason, I had not before encountered girl ticket collectors, and the politeness of manner surprised me. Obeying the instructions, I waited in the shadow; the peak-capped young woman collected tickets, disregarded a florid gentleman's offer of a rose, gave brisk information concerning return trains. Then she turned to me, and the light of the lamp shewed her features.
"Miss Muriel!" I exclaimed.
"Excess from New Cross," she said, filling in a slip from a book. "Threepence." Taking the coin and the ticket from me, and handing over the change. "Ninepence, thank you." I went through the barrier, expecting her to follow, but she closed it and remained on the platform.
The inspector said he would certainly give me all the assistance in his power, so soon as he was free from the task of despatching a main line train. Ten minutes later, he and I searched the ticket collectors' office. Two of the uniformed girls were emptying tickets from pouches, and sorting them.
"That is the young lady I wish to speak to," I said, pointing.
She turned and faced me.
"You've made a bloomer," remarked the inspector, frankly. "You want a party with the cognomen so to speak of Hillier, I understand. This one is Miss Dumbrill."
"That is my name," she said, composedly.