I felt pretty certain that I was still in one of the Home Counties, and I did not seem to remember having crossed the Thames, so that if only I could find a star which pointed to the south I was in a fair way to get home. I set out to look for a star; with the natural result that, having abandoned all hope of finding a man, I immediately ran into him.
"Now then," he said good-naturedly.
"Could you tell me the way to"—I tried to think of some place near my London—"to Westminster Abbey?"
He looked at me in astonishment. His feeling seemed to be that I was too late for the Coronation and too early for the morning service.
"Or—or anywhere," I said hurriedly. "Trams, for instance."
He pointed nervously to the right and disappeared.
Imagine my joy; there were tramlines, and better still, a tram approaching. I tumbled in, gave the conductor a penny, and got a workman's ticket in exchange. Ten minutes later we reached the terminus.
I had wondered where we should arrive, but didn't much mind so long as I was again within reach of a cab. However, as soon as I stepped out of the tram, I knew at once where I was.
"Tell me," I said to the conductor, "do you now go back again?"
"In ten minutes. There's a tram from here every half-hour."