“I—I didn’t know what had become of you,” he stammered hoarsely. “I—I thought you meant to meet me outside.”
She started.
“So I did. I remember!” said she. And then, very sweetly, as if overcome with remorse, she said, “I’m so very, very sorry; but I forgot all about it. I have spent the whole afternoon, or at least nearly three hours of it, buying lace and frocks and things, and trying hats on! I’m so awfully ashamed of myself. Do please forgive me.”
“Let me send away this cab, and take you to tea somewhere. You look done up,” said Gerard, still speaking as if he hardly knew what he was about.
She hesitated and looked around her stealthily.
Then she said shortly, in a faint voice—
“All right.”
Gerard gave the cabman a shilling, and hailing a hansom, helped her in and told the man to drive to the nearest tea-shop.
Then he jumped in after her, feeling his heart sink.
For the delight and relief of the first moment, when he had been ready to look upon her appearance by herself, a free woman, as a sign that she was innocent and that he had misjudged her, had given place to a dread that the danger was not over yet, and that she knew more about the affair of the shop-lifting than for the moment he had supposed.