silk stockings visible to all the watchers behind closed blinds. She overtook him, and called in a voice made loud and uncompromising by breathlessness, 'Mr. Ripley.'
He swung about in amazement.
'If you are Mr. Ripley,' she added.
'I am,' he began, 'and...' He wanted to know who this bright pursuer was and what he might do for her. When he turned and faced her, she saw that he was not as young as she had judged from his back. He had a short, slightly pointed dark beard, and his eyes were amusingly triangular in shape and very deeply set. His suit was cut square, a little like a seaman's, and made of blue serge. His complexion, either by nature or exposure, was dark. She decided that he must be Asa who 'shipped out' rather than his Concord cousin, the scholarly Sears.
'I beg your pardon for running after you.'
His little, odd eyes twinkled. 'I am flattered.'
'But if you are Mr. Asa Ripley...'
'Oh, but I'm not. If I were Asa I would be merely a ghost. He died two months ago.'
Lanice was conscience-stricken. She begged his pardon again. 'Captain Poggy cannot know that he is dead.'
'Nobody did until the brig, Laura Burn, came in day before yesterday. But is Captain Poggy about?' He looked down the street, saw him coming, and hastily and rather joyously went to meet him.
'And my young cousin, Miss Lanice Bardeen.'
The little eyes sparkled. 'Oh,' he said, 'you need
