"Are you going to drive or walk?" He put the question after a considerable pause.
"I thought to drive, because—"
Without permitting him to complete the sentence Blake crossed the footpath and hailed a passing cab.
"Come on! In you get!"
Max obeyed uncertainly, and as he took his seat a sudden fear of loss crushed him—life became blank, the brightness of the sun was eclipsed.
"Monsieur Ned!" he called. "Monsieur Ned! I shall see you again?"
Blake was speaking to the cocher. 'Rue Ronsard!' he heard him say. 'The corner of the rue André de Sarte!'
He leaned out of the window.
"Monsieur Ned! Monsieur Ned! I shall see you again? This is not good-bye?"
Blake turned; he laid his hand on the door of the cab and suddenly smiled his attractive, humorous smile.