This
meeting was so unexpected, she was so entirely unprepared for it, that
she was taken at a disadvantage. It seemed to her that this man must
surely know how much he had been in her thoughts, must be reading her
like an open book. Her eyes fell, and the colour rushed into her cheeks.
"Why has Martin gone?" she said, turning to the door to recall him, and
whatever sense of confusion she experienced, there was a dignity in her
movement, and a tone of annoyance in her voice, which showed Crosby that
she was proud, and seemed to prove that just now she was angry as well.
"Won't you at least let me thank you for your help?" he asked, taking a
step towards her.
"It was nothing," she answered. "By chance I learnt your name, by chance
I heard you were in danger, and I sent you a warning. I was in your
debt, and I like to pay what I owe."
"You have done that with interest."
"Tell me, why are you here?" she asked.
"Indeed, madam, to answer that question I have need of Martin, too, for
he brought me."
"I do not understand, Mr. Crosby--you are Mr. Gilbert Crosby, are you
not?"
"Yes; and I do not understand, either," he answered.
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