The eyes closed steadily with his, there was no excitement,
only cold alertness.
"Indeed? What was I singing?"
"For one thing, the chant of the negro woodcutters of Louisiana."
"What part of Louisiana?"
"The county of Tellavie chiefly."
Telford drew a long breath, as though some suspense was over, and then
said, "How did you know it was I?"
"I could scarcely tell you. I got the impression--besides, you are the
only man I've seen in Herridon who looks likely to know it and the song
which you prompted."
"Do I look like a southerner--still? You see I've been in an arctic
country five years."
"It is not quite that. I confess I cannot explain it."
"I hope you did not think the thing too boorish to be pardoned. On the
face of it it was rude to you--and the lady also."
"The circumstance--the coincidence--was so unusual that I did not stop to
think of manners."
"The coincidence--what coincidence?" said Telford, watching intently.
But Hagar had himself well in hand. He showed nothing of his suspicions.
"That you should be there listening, and that the song should be one which
no two people, meeting casually, were likely to know."
"We did not meet," said Telford dryly.
They watched the crowd for a minute. Presently he added, "May I ask the
name of the lady who was singing?"
There was a slight pause, then, "Certainly--Mrs.
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