"It's the thoughts and feelings of people which take hold of my curiosity now. Human nature is a big book, a great book. I have only begun to thumb it, and I'm an old man. Some people betray their emotions in one way, some in another. Some are loudest when most troubled, and some are so quiet one would think them dead. The woman I was watching there was one of the quiet ones; her trouble was deep; that was apparent from her outline--an outline which never varied." "Yes, she's a queer duck. I saw her: I even did an errand for her--that was before you sat down here." "You did an errand for her?" "Yes; she wanted a newspaper. Of course I was glad to get it for her, as she said she was lame." "Lame?" "Yes; I suppose she spoke the truth. I didn't think of her being in any special trouble, but I did think her an odd one. She seemed to be wearing two dresses." Mr. Gryce started and turned sharply toward him. "What's that you say? What do you mean by that?" "Why, this: when she stopped to get her money out of some hidden pocket, she pulled up the skirt of her dress, and I saw another one under it. Perhaps she thought that was the easiest way of carrying it. I noticed that her suit-case was a small one." "Describe that under-frock to me." Mr. Gryce's air and tone were unaccountably earnest. "What was its color?" "Why, reddish, I think. No, it had stripes in it and something like spots. Do you suppose it was her petticoat?" Mr. Gryce brought his hand down on his lame knee and did not seem to feel it. "Find out where she's gone!" he cried. "No, I will do it myself." And before the other could recover from his astonishment, he had started for the piazza where he had just seen the proprietor of the hotel take his seat. "This comes from an old man's folly in thinking he could manage an affair of this kind without help," he mumbled to himself as he went stumping along. "Had I told Perry whom we were after and how he was to recognize her, I should have spent my time talking with this woman instead of staring at her. Two dresses! with the bright one under! Well, she's even more subtle than I thought." And by this time, having reached the man he sought, he put his question: "Can you tell me anything about the woman who was sitting here? Who she is and where she has gone?" "The woman who was sitting here? Why, I should say she was a factory hand and has gone to her work on the other side of the river." "Her name? Do you know her name? I'm a detective from New York--one of the regular police force. I'm in search of a woman not unlike the one I saw here, though not, I am bound to state, a factory worker except on compulsion."