“Who?” she challenged.
“I rather fancy your mother has come back,” he suggested.
A look of scorn dawned into her pretty face.
“Good lord, Tommy!” she said in disgust, “you don't think I should keep mother in the suburbs without her telling the world all about it!”
“You're an undutiful little beggar,” he said.
They had reached the Horse Guards at Whitehall and he was saying good-bye to her.
“If it comes to a matter of duty,” she answered, “perhaps you will do your duty and hold up the traffic for me and let me cross this road.”
“My dear girl,” he protested, “hold up the traffic?”
“Of course,” she said indignantly, “you're a policeman.”
“Only when I am in uniform,” he said hastily, and piloted her across the road.