"You've been robbed!" I repeated, as I felt that firm grip haul me seatward.
"Shut up!" said a calm and very wide-awake voice, quite close to my ear. I struggled to tear my arm away from the hand that still clung to it.
"But you've been robbed!" I expostulated. I noticed that his own gaze was already directed northward, toward where the blue-clad figure still moved aimlessly on under the arc lamps.
"How do you know that?" he demanded. I was struck by his resolute and rather authoritative voice.
"Why, I saw it with my own eyes! And there goes the man who did it!" I told him, pointing northward.
He jerked down my hand and swung around on me.
"Watch that man!" he said, almost fiercely. "But for heaven's sake keep still!"
"What does this mean?" I naturally demanded.
He swept me with one quick glance. Yet he looked more at my clothes, I fancy, than at my face. My tailor seemed to be quite satisfactory to him.
"Who are you?" he asked. I took my time in answering, for I was beginning to resent his repeated note of superiority.