“Good-night,” he said, holding her hand.
“That's the third time you've shaken hands with me to-night,” she interjected.
“Don't let us have any unpleasantness at the last,” he pleaded, “and remember.”
“I have promised,” she replied.
“And one day,” he went on, “you will tell me all that happened in that cellar.”
“I have told you,” she said in a low voice.
“You have not told me everything, child.”
He handed her into the cab. He shut the door behind her and leant through the open window.
“Victoria or Marble Arch?” he asked politely.
“Charing Cross,” she replied, with a little laugh.