“Well, are you ready?” Sydney asked, getting up. George nodded.
“Let’s go, then,” Sydney said, and they left the room and began to walk downstairs.
George suddenly remembered Leo.
“Just a tick,” he said. “I’ve got to feed my cat.”
“Forget it,” Sydney said shortly. “There are other things to think about besides cats.”
George ignored Sydney’s impatience, ran back to his room, put a saucer of milk and the remains of the sardines on the floor where Leo could find it, and then hurried after Sydney, who was waiting for him in the street.
“Go hack and keep Cora company,” Sydney said. “I’ve got things to do.” He looked at George with a jeering grin. “She thinks you’re quite a hero.”
George went a dull red. “Does she?” he asked eagerly. “Well, I don’t know about that. I couldn’t do much against those razors.” He nursed his aching hand. “If it had been a fair fight…”
“I know, I know,” Sydney said, moving away. “You tell her about it. I’ve got things to do.”
George was delighted that Sydney wasn’t returning to the flat. He hurried to Russell Square, eager to be alone with Cora. He passed a chemist’s shop, and remembering what Sydney had said about the weals on Cora’s hack, he retraced his steps, went in and asked for a bottle of witch-hazel.