"Well, he had you, that cabby!"
Christopher related the circumstances, still leaning in exhaustion against the door-post, and Miss Sparkes, who under no conceivable stress could have suffered herself to be so "done out of" a piece of gold, scarcely knew whether to despise or to pity him. After all, a compassionate feeling prevailed, sure sign that there was something disinterested in her association with this young man.
"I'm very sorry," she said; "I never thought it 'ud cost you that much."
"I shouldn't care a bit," Christopher replied, "if you treated me better now I've got here."
Polly moved just a little nearer to him, ever so little, but the movement was appreciable. Unfortunately Christopher was too weary to notice it.
"What was the address?" she asked in an undertone, which, had but Mr. Parish understood, fitly accompanied that little movement.
He told her bluntly, and Polly repeated the words
"And now I suppose I may say good night," Christopher added, still with discontent.
"Well, thank you very much for getting me that address."
"But you won't tell me what you want it for?"