It's most kind of you!" "Oh, I don't want any thanks!" said Meg, smiling.

"I'm rather sweet on old men, seein' old age aint their fault even if trampin' the road is.
You'd best keep on the straight line now, till you come to Blue Anchor.
That's a nice little village, and you'll find an inn there where you can get a night's lodging cheap.

I wouldn't advise you to stay much round Cleeve after sundown, for there's a big camp of gypsies about there, an' they're a rough lot, pertikly a man they calls Tom o' the Gleam." Helmsley smiled.
"I know Tom o' the Gleam," he said.

"He's a friend of mine." Meg Ross opened her round, bright brown eyes.
"Is he?
Dear life, if I'd known that, I mightn't 'ave been so ready to give you a ride with me!" she said, and laughed.

"Not that I'm afraid of Tom, though he's a queer customer.