Suddenly she caught a face which she knew. When a girl has been travelling about for five years she sees a great many faces. This was a face which she remembered perfectly well, yet could not at first place it in any scene or assign it to any date. Then she recollected. And she walked boldly across the room and stood before the owner of that face.
'You have forgotten me,' she said abruptly.
'I—I—can I ever have known you?' he asked.
'Will you shake hands, Mr. Stephenson? You were Dick Stephenson five years ago. Have you forgotten Armorel, of Samson Island in Scilly?'
No. He had not forgotten that young lady. But he would never have known her thus changed—thus dressed.
'Where is your friend Roland Lee?'
Dick Stephenson changed colour. 'I have not seen him for a long time. We are no longer—exactly—friends.'
'Why not?' she asked, with severity. 'Have you done anything bad? How have you offended him?'
'No, no; certainly not.' He coloured more deeply. 'I have done nothing bad at all,' he added with much indignation.
'Have you deserted him, then? I thought men never gave up their friends. Come to see me, Mr. Stephenson. You shall tell me where he is and what he is doing.'