I suppose I bowed . Habit carries us mechanically through many impossible situations . I do n't know what I looked like or what I said , if I said anything . I do n't suppose I betrayed my dire confusion , for Edna went off unconcernedly without another glance at me . Dorothy Armstrong ! Gracious powers -- who -- where -- why ? If this girl was Dorothy Armstrong who was Marian Lindsay ? To whom was I engaged ? There was some awful mistake somewhere , for it could not be possible that there were two girls in Croyden who looked exactly like the photograph reposing in my valise at that very moment . I stammered like a schoolboy . `` I -- oh -- I -- your face seems familiar to me , Miss Armstrong . I -- I -- think I must have seen your photograph somewhere . '' `` Probably in Peter Austin 's collection , '' smiled Miss Armstrong . `` He had one of mine before he was burned out . How is he ? '' `` Peter ? Oh , he 's well , '' I replied vaguely . I was thinking a hundred words to the second , but my thoughts arrived nowhere . I was staring at Miss Armstrong like a man bewitched . She must have thought me a veritable booby .
`` Oh , by the way -- can you tell me -- do you know a Miss Lindsay XXXXX Croyden ? ''
at before for if in like of that to without