Lady Adela's fine eyes began to protrude, crabwise.
"You followed her?" she gasped.
"I did. What else was there to do?" said Dicky simply. "I might never have seen her again if I had n't. Fate does n't as a rule give a man two chances. I got this one, and I took it. One moment I was walking along Piccadilly, bucking about something to old Tiny Carmyle. Next moment there she was, stepping on to that Piccadilly 'bus. In about five seconds I found myself up on top, too, sitting on the seat behind her. I tell you, it must--"
"What became of Mr. Carmyle?" asked Lady Adela, ruthlessly interrupting another rhapsody.
Dicky smiled vaguely, and rubbed his head.
"Upon my soul, I don't know," he confessed. "It's the first time the matter has occurred to me. I expect he went home. He's a resourceful old creature."
"How did you dispose of the man with the umbrella, my boy?" enquired Mr. Mainwaring.
"Ah," said Dicky, abandoning Carmyle to his fate, "that was where I did the bright thing. The fellow looked as if he made rather a hobby of this sort of game, and that gave me an idea. When he started amusing himself, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, right in his ear: 'Look here, my man, do you remember what happened to you the last time you were rude to a lady when you thought no one was with her?"
Mr. Mainwaring rubbed his hands gently.
"Well?" he said.