The girl thought a moment; then she got up to walk. "He never heard of
you," she replied.

"You haven't mentioned me?"

"We never mention anything. What I've told you is just what I've found
out."

Mr. Mudge, who had remained on the bench, looked up at her; she often
preferred to be quiet when he proposed to walk, but now that he seemed to
wish to sit she had a desire to move. "But you haven't told me what _he_
has found out."

She considered her lover. "He'd never find _you_, my dear!"

Her lover, still on his seat, appealed to her in something of the
attitude in which she had last left Captain Everard, but the impression
was not the same. "Then where do I come in?"

"You don't come in at all. That's just the beauty of it!"--and with this
she turned to mingle with the multitude collected round the band. Mr.
Mudge presently overtook her and drew her arm into his own with a quiet
force that expressed the serenity of possession; in consonance with which
it was only when they parted for the night at her door that he referred
again to what she had told him.

"Have you seen him since?"

"Since the night in the Park? No, not once."