“Then what?”
He flushed. “Can’t tell you yet.”
“Oh, but tell me!”
“I—I couldn’t here—not where every one’s passing.”
“Something for me?” she guessed.
He nodded.
Higher up the street, outside a public house, a hansom cab was standing.
“I must know,” she laughed. “Can’t wait another second. We’ll be alone in that.”
“Where to?” asked the cabby, peering through the trap.
“Anywhere. Piccadilly Circus.”