“Well, you needn’t make it any worse,” retorted Millie on the verge of a fresh outburst of tears.
“Oh! come on!” said Blanche, getting to her feet.
“I don’t believe I can walk home,” complained Millie; “my feet ache so.”
“You’ll have to wait a long time if you’re going to find a bus,” returned Blanche.
Three empty taxicabs stood in the rank a few feet away from them, but it never occurred to either of the two young women to attempt any experiment with these mechanisms. If the thought had crossed their minds they would have deemed it absurd.
“Let’s go down by Victoria,” suggested Blanche. “I believe it’s nearer.”
In Parliament Square they disturbed a flock of rooks, birds which had partly changed their natural habits during the past few months and, owing to the superabundance of one kind of food, were preying on carrion.
“Crows,” commented Blanche. “Beastly things.”
“I wonder if we could get some water to drink,” was Millie’s reply.
“Well, there’s the river,” suggested Blanche, and they turned up towards Westminster Bridge.