Anna sat back in her cab, but found it remain stationary.
“Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. “I don’t know where to go to.”
The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament.
“Drive towards St. Pancras,” she directed, promptly. “I will tell you when to stop.”
The cab rumbled off. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital.