Thestrangercameon，withthelithe，lightstepofapracticedwalker，swingingastickinhishandandcarryingaknapsackonhisshoulders。Afewpacesnearer，andhisfacebecamevisible。
Hewasadarkman，hisblackhairwaspowderedwithdust，andhisblackeyeswerelookingsteadfastlyforwardalongtheroadbeforehim。
MissGwiltadvancedwiththefirstsignsofagitationshehadshownyet。“Isitpossible？”shesaid，softly。“Canitreallybeyou？”
ItwasMidwinter，onhiswaybacktoThorpeAmbrose，afterhisfortnightamongtheYorkshiremoors。
Hestoppedandlookedather，inbreathlesssurprise。Theimageofthewomanhadbeeninhisthoughts，atthemomentwhenthewomanherselfspoketohim。“MissGwilt！“heexclaimed，andmechanicallyheldouthishand。