Been a corker in her time--not bad now--about thirty, I guess--maybe younger--you can't always tell.

Rather slim--had on a black-straw hat and some kind of a cloak." Kitty was about to freshen his memory with some remembrance of her own, and had got as far as, "Well, my man Mike was here and he told me that--" when Felix lifted a restraining hand, supplementing her outburst by the direct question: "Did she say nothing about herself ?" "She did not.

All we could get out of her was that she was English." Felix bent nearer.

"Will you please describe her a little closer?
I have a reason for knowing." The sergeant caught the look of determination, dallied with a tin paper-cutter, bent his head on one side, and pursed a pair of thick lips.

It was a strain on his memory, this recalling the features of one of a dozen prisoners, but somehow he dared not refuse.
"Well, she was one of the pocket kind of women, small and well put up but light built, you know.