"You didn't suppose I was going to sit here and watch you
depart upon a mysterious errand? I borrowed your chauffeur's
coat and his cap, and slunk down after you. I can assure you I
looked the most wonderful female apache you ever saw! And I saw
the fight. It was better than any of the prize fights I have
ever been to. The real thing is better than the sham, isn't it?"
Sir Timothy leaned back in his place and remained silent. Soon
they passed out of the land of tired people, of stalls decked out
with unsavoury provender, of foetid smells and unwholesome-looking
houses. They passed through a street of silent warehouses on to
the Embankment. A stronger breeze came down between the curving
arc of lights.
"You are not sorry that you brought me?" Lady Cynthia asked,
suddenly holding out her hand.
Sir Timothy took it in his. For some reason or other, he made no
answer at all.
CHAPTER XXVII
The car stopped in front of the great house in Grosvenor Square.
Lady Cynthia turned to her companion.
"You must come in, please," she said. "I insist, if it is only
for five minutes."
Sir Timothy followed her across the hall to a curved recess,
where the footman who had admitted them touched a bell, and a
small automatic lift came down.
"I am taking you to my own quarters," she explained.
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