In them was not one gleam of recognition.

Turning them again upon the road in front of her, she sped on and away.
[Illustration: "CUT LIKE THAT"] For some minutes I stood looking after her, utterly astonished.

I do not think in all my life I had ever been cut like that.

What did it mean?
Could she care enough about me to resent my stopping at the Holly Sprig?
Was it possible that she could have known what had been likely to happen there, and what had happened there?
All this was very improbable, but in Cathay people seemed to know a great many things.
Anyway, she had solved my problem for me.

I need give no further thought to a stop at her father's mansion.
I mounted and rode on, but not rapidly.