When we were changing horses the next time, he came from the stable-yard, with the wet snow encrusted upon him and dropping off him--plashing and crashing through it to his wet knees as he had been doing frequently since we left Saint Albans--and spoke to me at the carriage side.
"Keep up your spirits. It's certainly true that she came on here, Miss Summerson. There's not a doubt of the dress by this time, and the dress has been seen here."
"Still on foot?" said I.
"Still on foot. I think the gentleman you mentioned must be the point she's aiming at, and yet I don't like his living down in her own part of the country neither."
"I know so little," said I. "There may be some one else nearer here, of whom I never heard."

At the next change of horses he came from the stable-yard, with the wet snow encrusted upon him, and spoke to me at the carriage side.
"Keep up your spirits. It's certainly true that she came here, Miss Summerson. There's not a doubt of the dress, and the dress has been seen here."
"Still on foot?" said I.
"Yes. I think the Mr. Boythorn you mentioned must be the point she's aiming at, and yet I don't like his living in her own part of the country."
"I know so little," said I. "There may be some one else nearer here, of whom I never heard."
