Could she have passed the bridge so quickly?
He ran forward.

True, it must be more than five minutes since he had left her, much more, perhaps, for he could not judge how long he had stood battling with himself behind the wharfs.
A policeman stood at the end of the bridge.

Egremont asked him if a young girl had just passed.

Yes, such a one had gone by a minute or two ago.
He ran on, past the church, into High Street.

But would she go this way?
A girl crossed the road a little way ahead, into Paradise Street.
He overtook her, only to be disappointed.
At the end of Newport Street a man stood, waiting.