"No. And listen. This child isn't for us; let her alone in future.—Are you ready, Connie?"
"Yus, sir."
Simeon Stylites put on the most gentlemanly overcoat and a well-brushed silk hat, and he took a neat stick in his hand and went boldly out of the house. As soon as ever he got outside he saw a hansom, and beckoned the driver. He and Connie got in.
They went for a long drive, and Stylites dismissed the hansom in a distant part of the town.
"You wouldn't know your way back again?" he said to the girl.
"No, sir; an' ef I knew I wouldn't tell."
"Well, then—good-bye."
"Good-bye, sir."
"Yes, good-bye. Walk down this street till you come to the end. Here's a shilling—you'll get a hansom; ask a policeman to put you in. From there go home again, and forget that you ever saw or heard of Simeon Stylites."