“No; a woman.”
I nodded.
At that instant a thought occurred to me, and I wondered whether Roddy had encountered Aline, and whether she was the woman he did not wish to meet. “Was she young?” I asked, laughing.
“Not very,” he replied vaguely, adding, “There are some persons who, being associated with the melancholy incidents in one’s life, bring back bitter memories that one would fain forget.”
“Yes, yes; I understand,” I said.
Then presently, when I had got my cigar under way, I related to him what had afterwards occurred, omitting, however, to tell him of the remarkable fusion of my crucifix. The latter fact was so extraordinary that it appeared incredible.
He listened in silence until I had finished, and then I asked him—
“Now, you’ve had a good long experience of all kinds of adventure. What do you think of it?”
“Well, when you commenced to tell me of her loneliness I felt inclined to think that she was deceiving you. The alone-in-London dodge has too often been worked. But you say that she was evidently a lady—modest, timid, and apparently unused to London life. What name did she give you?”
“Cloud—Aline Cloud.”