"Cyril! You here!"
"I'm come to meet you—by accident."
"How did you know where I was?"
"Intuition."
"Nonsense."
"Madame Collier told me you'd gone to Dutton, so of course I knew you'd come this way. I say!—Give me that basket."
"No. Cyril, let it alone. I like to carry something."
"So do I!"—dexterously twisting the handle off her arm.
"How you bother!"
"Yes, I know. It's only for your good. What's inside the basket?"