Crossing the yard, he shook the man's arm. “Hi! Wake up. I want you to drive me to a good hotel.” The man came to with a jerk. “A good 'otel! That's wot the lady wanted. You must be the gen'leman I wuz told to wait for.”
Hindwood nodded. “So you've driven the lady already! Then you'd better take me to wherever you took her.”
He had opened the door and was in the act of entering when the horse started forward, making him lose his balance. As he stretched out his hands to steady himself, what was his surprise to discover that the cab was already tenanted!
VI
I beg your pardon.”
There was no reply to his apology. He repeated it in a tone of more elaborate courtesy, “I beg your pardon.”
When he was again greeted with silence, he added: “I thought it was empty. I didn't do it on purpose. I hope you're not hurt.”
In the mildewed square of blackness, rank with the smell of stables, he held his breath, trying to detect whether sleep would account for the taciturnity of the other occupant. He could detect nothing; all lesser sounds were drowned in the rattle of their progress. Groping, he felt a woman's dress. Hollowing his hand to shade the flame, he struck a match. For a brief moment his eyes met hers, opened wide and gazing at him. Instantly she leaned forward, pursing her lips. The flame went out.
“What's the meaning of this?” He had been startled and spoke with sharpness.
“There was only one cab, so I——” She yawned luxuriously. “So I waited. I didn't want to lose you.”