“It was a satisfaction to me; and it served him right.”
“Surely a very poor satisfaction! Did you notice that some one in the crowd called out your name, and that it seemed to frighten the man terribly?”
“Indeed? Odd, wasn’t it? But you were saying that you thought I dropped from the sky. Why, I had been following you for five minutes before! What do you think of that? If I may take the liberty of asking, how did you come to be walking round Soho at such an hour with a little ragged boy?”
Lydia explained. When she finished, it was nearly dark, and they had reached Oxford Street, where, like Lucian in Regent’s Park that afternoon, she became conscious that her companion was an object of curiosity to many of the young men who were lounging in that thoroughfare.
“Alice will think that I am lost,” she said, making a signal to a cabman. “Good-bye; and many thanks. I am always at home on Fridays, and shall be very happy to see you.”
She handed him a card. He took it, read it, looked at the back to see if there was anything written there, and then said, dubiously,
“I suppose there will be a lot of people.”
“Yes; you will meet plenty of people.”
“Hm! I wish you’d let me see you home now. I won’t ask to go any further than the gate.”
Lydia laughed. “You should be very welcome,” she said; “but I am quite safe, thank you. I need not trouble you.”