"I didn't cross, I--" She stopped abruptly, and bit her lip. It was quite obvious that for some reason or other, she had not wished him to know that she had got in at Newhaven. He knew that politeness demanded he should not pursue a subject which was evidently distasteful to her. But his curiosity overcame his scruples. "Really? It is rather unusual to take this train unless one is coming from the continent." "Yes. One has to start so frightfully early. I had to get up a little before five." That meant she must live in Newhaven, and not far from the station at that--but was it true? She had about her that indescribable something which only those possess whose social position has never been questioned. No, Newhaven did not seem the background for her. But then, had she not herself told him that she did not live there? She might have gone there on an errand of charity or--After all, what business was it of his? Why should he attempt to pry into her life? It was abominable. She settled herself in a corner of the carriage, and he fancied that she wished to avoid further conversation. Serve him jolly well right, he thought. During the rest of the journey his behaviour was almost ostentatiously discreet. If she feared that he was likely to take advantage of the situation, he was determined to show her that he had no intention of doing so. To avoid staring at her he kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly changing landscape; but they might have been suddenly transported to China without his observing the difference. In fact, he had not realised that they were nearing their destination, till he saw his companion readjust her veil. A few minutes later the train stopped at Hearne Hill. Crichton put his head out of the window. "There is something up," he said, a moment later turning to her. "There must be a criminal on board. There are a lot of policemen about, and they seem to be searching the train." "Oh, what shall I do!" she cried, starting to her feet. "What is the matter?" "They will shut me up. Oh, save me--save me!" For a moment he was too startled to speak. Was it possible? This girl a criminal--a thief? He couldn't believe it. "But what have you done?" "Nothing, nothing I assure you. Oh, believe me, it is all a mistake." He looked at her again. Innocent or guilty, he would stand by her. "They will be here directly," he said. "Have you enough self-control to remain perfectly calm and to back up any story I tell?" "Yes." "Sit down then, and appear to be talking to me." "Tickets, please." The guard was at the door, and behind him stood a police inspector. Crichton having given up his ticket, turned to the girl and said: "You have your ticket, Amy." She handed it over. "From Newhaven, I see." The inspector stepped forward: "I must ask the lady to lift 'er veil, please." "What do you mean, my man? Are you drunk? "Steady, sir. Do you know this lady?"