She seemed to reflect. “No, I will walk.” She hesitated over a glove button. “Mr. Brumley, is there a Tube station near here?”
“Not two minutes. But can’t I perhaps take you in a taxi?”
“I’d rather walk.”
“I will show you——”
He found himself most agreeably walking off with her.
Still more agreeable things were to follow for Mr. Brumley.
She appeared to meditate upon a sudden idea. She disregarded some conversational opening of his that he forgot in the instant. “Mr. Brumley,” she said, “I didn’t intend to go directly home.”
“I’m altogether at your service,” said Mr. Brumley.
“At least,” said Lady Harman with that careful truthfulness of hers, “it occurred to me during lunch that I wouldn’t go directly home.”
Mr. Brumley reined in an imagination that threatened to bolt with him.