"Yes," she continued, "she told me all about it. It was on Monday evening, about seven o'clock, and she was coming up the little street by St. James's Church, where the Post Office is. She fancied she'd noticed a man following her, a very big handsome man with a golden beard." "Is that her description of him?" I interrupted. "Yes. That's why I wasn't much surprised when you told me about his beard. Then outside the Post Office the outrage happened. He spoke to her. Spoke to her, George. Try to realise it." "Well, if she'd no idea who he was it wasn't a pleasant thing to have happen." She gave a soft laugh. "He's very good-looking," she said brazenly. "Julia, if you were naturally a catty sort of woman----" "Don't interrupt, George. I am artificially then. If you don't want to hear go out and look for hansoms. And whatever else you're sententious about don't be sententious about women. Now I've forgotten what I was going to say." "You said he spoke to her outside the Post Office." "Behave yourself then. He did speak to her, and she set Puppetty at him." "_What!_" I cried. "Quite so, dear George. _As_ you say. Fearfully pleased and excited really. Quite a romance. And of course she'd have given anything _not_ to set Puppetty at him." "Then why in the name of goodness did she?" Julia gave an exhausted sigh. "If ever you marry, George, heaven help Lady Coverham!... Why did she? Because she had to. She's that sort. They've got to do certain things because that sort does, but they _do_ so wish they needn't! Virtue's a funny thing. If you don't want that ice may I have it?" "But look here," I said presently. "If he'd said straight out, as any man in his position would have done, 'I say, I know this is a bit unusual, but my name's Derwent Rose, and there's something I want to explain'--and so on--you see what I mean. Then she'd have known who he was." "Well, I'm afraid I'm not responsible for what he didn't say." "What exactly did he say?" She gave a shrug. "What do men say? They don't stop _me_ outside post offices. You never did; if all this hadn't happened I don't suppose I should ever have known you one scrap better. I dare say he was a bit rattled too. Anyway she didn't stop to think. She just set the dog at him, legged it, and she's as pleased as Punch still." "You're quite sure she didn't recognise him?" "Oh, quite. She'd tell me in a minute. She'd love to be able to say she'd had Derwent Rose at her feet." "I suppose so," I sighed. "Did you ask her what aged man this--marauder--looked?" "What do you think? Of course I did. Doesn't everything turn on that? But she could only tell me, 'Oh, about thirty-three or four--thirty-five perhaps.' The very thing we want to know ... but she was in such a hurry to be virtuous...." Her brow was no longer smooth. Her voice rose a little and then dropped again.