'If only the lobsters——' began Peggy plaintively.
'I do not believe in the lobsters,' said Childwick firmly.
'Then she asked me after Trix Trevalla—— Why, there's a knock!'
It was true. The policeman had at last approached the woman with a step that spoke of a formed decision. To his surprise she suddenly exclaimed in an impatient voice, 'Oh, well, if they're going to stay all night, I can't wait,' and crossed the road. He followed her to the doorstep.
'This isn't where you live,' he said, as though kindness suggested the information.
'No, it isn't,' she agreed.
'Come now, where do you live?'
'I don't know,' she answered, seeming puzzled and tired. 'My flat's let, you see.'
'Oh, is it?' Sarcasm became predominant in the policeman's voice. 'Taken it for the Maharajeer of Kopang, have they?' A prince bearing that title was a visitor to London at this time, and was creating considerable interest.
'Nonsense!' said she with asperity, and she knocked, adding, 'I know the lady who lives up there.'