She heard steps on the pavement just behind her, and then the young man of the train accosted her, raising his hat as he spoke:
“Aren’t you going to give me the pleasure of your acquaintance?” he suavely enquired.
His voice was very polite, and his eyes looked faintly amused.
“Oh!” Elsie cried in a startled tone. “I don’t think I know you, do I?”
“All the more reason to begin now. Mayn’t I carry that bag for you?”
He took it and they walked on together.
“Perhaps you can tell me where Mortimer Crescent is,” Elsie said primly.
“It will be my proudest privilege to escort you there,” he replied in mock bombastic tones.
It was a form of persiflage well known to Elsie, and she laughed in reply. “You are silly, aren’t you?”
“Not at all. Now if you called me cheeky, perhaps....”