Her face was in shadow, but she had beautiful hair of a ruddy brown.

I asked myself if she were the "lady clerk" of the establishment, or the daughter of the keeper of the inn.
She was evidently a person in some authority, and one with whom it would be proper for me to converse, and as she had given me a very good opportunity to open conversation, I lost no time in doing so.
"And so you used to live in Walford ?" I said.
"Oh yes," she replied, and then she began to speak of the pleasant days she had spent in that village.

As she talked I endeavored to discover from her words who she was and what was her position.

I did not care to discuss Walford.

I wanted to talk about the Holly Sprig Inn, but I could not devise a courteous question which would serve my purpose.
Presently our attention was attracted by the sound of singing at the corner of the little lawn most distant from the house.