"Memory is a fickle thing," Lilian Rosenberg replied, "and so is woman. Times have changed. I'll leave you at once, unless you promise to do your very utmost to grant my request."
Kelson promised, and—after they had had supper at the Trocadero, suggested that they should take a stroll in Hyde Park.
"I hope you are not awfully shocked?" he inquired rather anxiously, "but a sudden impulse has come over me to go there. I believe it is the will of the Unknown. Will you come with me?"
"We shan't be able to get in, shall we, it's so late?" Lilian Rosenberg said. "Otherwise I should like to—I'm rather in a mood for adventure."
"They don't shut the gates till twelve," Kelson said, "and it's not that yet."
"Very well, let's go, then. I'm game to go anywhere to see the Unknown," and so saying Lilian rose from the table, and Kelson followed her into the street.
They took a taxi, and alighting at Hyde Park Corner entered the Park. It was very dark and deserted.
"It's nearly closing time," a policeman called out to them rather curtly.
"We are only taking a constitutional," Kelson explained. "We shall be back in five minutes."
They crossed the road to the statue, and were deliberating which direction to take, when they heard a groan.