"No," said Lister. "I fell down some steps not long afterwards."

She looked at him sharply and then exclaimed: "Oh! the newspapers said
there was a struggle on the train! Somebody helped the police and got
hurt. It was you. Shillito knew you had meddled. You got the cut for
me!"

"We agreed we wouldn't talk about Shillito. I got the cut because I
didn't want to see a young police trooper knocked out. People who meddle
do get hurt now and then. Anyhow, it's some time since and I think we'll
let it go. Suppose you tell me about Montreal and your job at the
store?"

She roused herself and began to talk. Lister thought it cost her
something, but she sketched her working companions with skill and humor.
She used their accent and their French-Canadian gestures. Lister laughed
and led her on, although he got a hint of strain. The girl was not happy
and he had noted her wistful look when she talked about England. At
length she got up, and stopping at the door for a moment gave him her
hand.

"Thank you. I wish you _bon voyage_," she said.

"Can't we go somewhere else? Is there nothing doing at the theaters?"
Lister asked.

"No," she said resolutely; "I'm going home. Anyhow, I'm going where I
live."