What on earth was he to tell this man? Then he decided to risk telling the truth.
"I'm afraid I haven't got any luggage, guard," he said, looking up with a smile and handing the man five one-pound notes. "Keep the change," he said casually.
"Thank you, sir," said the guard, still standing half in the carriage, as if Beresford's remark required some explanation.
"I saw a friend coming by this train and—and" he hesitated.
"I understand, sir," said the man without the flicker of a smile. "If I can help you, sir," he added significantly, "perhaps you would like to take a walk through the train and see if you can find her."
"Her!" There was a vast fund of humanity in this guard. Beresford looked at him.
"If you tell me what she is like, sir, perhaps I can find out where she's going. I've got to examine all the tickets."
"What a brainy idea," exclaimed Beresford, looking up at the man in admiration. "She's dark, and she was wearing a long, browny-grey sort of coat, you know."
The man nodded.
"And" he hesitated. "What the devil did she have on her head?"
"A hat, sir?" suggested the guard.
Beresford looked up and laughed. "I'm blessed if I know what you would call it, guard. It was a round thing, browny-grey too, with some yellow on
