“My business is done, and I have an hour or more before I need think of catching my train. If you’ve no other engagement yourself——”
“Oh, no. I want to get back to Cecil, but he’ll be all right for a little while. I’d like to come.”
“I’m so glad.” His voice really did sound glad. “Now, where would you like to go?”
“There’s an A.B.C. shop not far from here,” Rose suggested.
“That would be very nice. Or suppose we go to that place in Bond Street—Verreys? Do you know it?”
“No.”
“Then do let me take you there. It’s really quite a nice place.”
He raised his stick for an instant, and a hansom drew up beside the kerb. Rose involuntarily recollected the impassioned gesticulations and shrill whistling with which cabs, when rendered inevitable on account of luggage, were summoned to the door by Uncle Alfred.
“Have you heard from Squires lately?”
“I had a letter from my mother-in-law a few days ago, asking when me and Ces were going back there. And I haven’t answered it yet, either.”