The patrolman hesitated. "Who are you," he asked, stepping a little closer to Trotter.
"I am this young lady's fiancé," said Trotter, with dignity.
"Her what?"
"Her steady," said Trotter.
The policeman laughed,—good-naturedly, to their relief.
"Oh, well, that being the case," said he, and started away. "Excuse me for buttin' in."
"Sure," said Trotter amiably. "If you see a taxi, old man."
"Leave it to me," came back from the fog.
Jane nestled close to her tall young man. His arm was about her.