She nodded. "At Vine Street. He wants to be bailed out."
"What amount?"
"Himself in ten pounds and a friend in another ten. He gave your name; and the policeman is waiting for the answer."
"I see," said I; "but excuse me if I fail to see why, being apparently so impatient to bail him out, you have waited for me. To be sure (for reasons which are dark to me) he appears to have given my name to the police; but we will put that riddle aside for the moment. Any respectable citizen would have served, with the money to back him. Why not have sent Horrex, for example?"
"But I thought the—the—"
"Surety?" I suggested. "I thought he must be a householder. No," she cried, as I turned away with a slight shrug of the shoulder, "that was not the real reason! Herbert is—oh, why will you force me to say it?"
"I beg your pardon," said I. "He is at certain times not too tractable; Horrex, in particular, cannot be trusted to manage him; and—and in short you wish him released as soon as possible, but not brought home to this house until your guests have taken leave?"
She nodded at me with swimming eyes. She was passing beautiful, more beautiful than I had thought.
"Yes, yes; you understand! And I thought that—as his friend—and with your influence over him—"
I pulled out my watch. "Has Horrex a hansom in waiting?"