Each police constable saluted respectfully.
“Miss Sharp,” said the tall man, “fetch the manager at once.”
The woman in black tore her skirt and knocked down a china ornament, owing to the expedition with which she went forth to do so.
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” said the more amply nourished of the two constables, “but I’m afeared we must ax you to prefer a charge.”
“I have nothing whatever to do with the charges,” said the woman tartly. “I merely ask for my purse; I can’t live without it.”
“Well, my lady,” said the fatter of the two constables, “we can’t do nothing unless you prefers a charge.”
“These people are concerned with the charges,” said the woman, including all present by a comprehensive wave of the hand. “The charges are entirely their affair. They must pay all costs. I hold them entirely responsible for the loss of my purse.”
“Well, your ladyship——”
“Please don’t be stupid, constable,” said the woman. “One feels it is trying you highly. But if these people prove unreasonable you had better communicate with Lord Pomeroy at 220, Carlton House Terrace.”
The throng seemed to grow greater about the boy. The voices of the street-persons seemed to increase in volume and earnestness. By this he was divested of every tremor of fear. All his emotions were merged in wonder and bewilderment, and an overpowering desire to know what would happen next.