I believe I shall be a success here--which is more than I can say
of a little further westwards."
Sir Timothy smiled slightly. He had exchanged his hat for a
tweed cap, and had put on a long dustcoat.
"There is no gauge by which you may know the measure of your
success," he said. "If there were--"
"If there were?" she asked, leaning a little forward and looking
at him with a touch of the old brilliancy in her eyes.
"If there were," he said, with a little show of mock gallantry,
"a very jealously-guarded secret might escape me. I think you
will be quite all right here," he continued. "It is an open
thoroughfare, and I see two policemen at the corner. Hassell, my
chauffeur, too, is a reliable fellow. We will be back within the
hour."
"We?" she repeated.
He indicated a man who had silently made his appearance during
the conversation and was standing waiting on the sidewalk.
"Just a companion. I do not advise you to wait. If you insist
--au revoir!"
Lady Cynthia leaned back in a corner of the car.
Through half-closed eyes she watched the two men on their way
down the crowded thoroughfare--Sir Timothy tall, thin as a lath,
yet with a certain elegance of bearing; the man at his side
shorter, his hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, his
manner one of subservience.
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