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I'll see you later," to make those behind think he had been to church, but this did not seem entirely natural.

They were now approaching the Scovell House, where he would have to do something. He could see the spraddling mulberry and the hotel sign illuminated by the lights passing under it. He thought he would simply turn in without a word. Then a wild notion came to him to walk on home with the girl. This might entail explanations at the other end, but it would be a postponement. He decided to risk it. He was nerving himself to pass his hotel, when to Abner’s surprise the girl stopped at the gate. Utterly at sea, Abner opened the rickety gate for her and let her through. The flashlight procession continued on its way unaware that the most dramatic coincidence in the lumpy life of a hillman had just occurred.

The girl evidently was well acquainted with the Scovell House, for she entered the door, walked over and picked up a small kerosene lamp which sat on the newel post of the stairway, and turned up the wick. This low-burning lamp was the amenity which the Scovell House offered belated guests; it was, in fact, the one thing that differentiated the Scovell House from the private residences along the street.

As the girl turned up the wick the two silent companions saw each other for the first time.

Abner looked, then stared in amazement at the colourless oval face, the coils of pale colourless hair, and the large melancholy eyes that looked black in the lamplight. Yet even in the disguise of the yellow light he recognized her and gasped out, "For God's sake, Nessie Sutton, is it you I walked home with!"

The girl's hand trembled so she could hardly hold the lamp.

"Yes, it’s me—I knew you were here the very first day you came, Abner. I knew it was you walking by me just then.” There was a tinge of reproach in her tones.

Abner could not get on with his thinking. He stared at her.