"I know what you mean, dad," cried Vane. "It was horrible enough, or at least it might have been and yet it wasn't, and because it wasn't——"
"Well, at any rate," interrupted Sir Arthur as the cab pulled up, "let us thank God that it wasn't."
As they got out another cab drove up just behind theirs, and somewhat to his astonishment Vane saw Ernshaw get out.
"My dear Ernshaw," he said, as they shook hands, "isn't this great extravagance?"
"Only a shilling's worth," laughed Ernshaw in reply, "and I think justifiable; a little kiddy was knocked down in Addison Road there by a butcher's cart, and I picked her up and took her to the hospital in Hammersmith Road, and this good fellow won't charge me more than a shilling for both journeys, although it is out of the radius."
"Oh, he won't, won't he?" said Sir Arthur, putting his hand into his pocket and pulling out a couple of half-crowns.
"You take that, my man, not for yourself if you won't have it, but for your wife and your children if you have got any; you can't say no for them."
"No, sir, thankee, I won't say no to them," said the cabby, taking the half-crowns and touching his hat. "It's the best fare I've earned to-day. Good-night, sir, and thank you, sir. Come up, old girl."
The whip flicked, and the old mare went round to begin another of those endless journeys through London streets which horses, if they reason at all, must find so utterly incomprehensible and aimless.