It had been misty since morning, and towards the close of day the fog deepened. When he left a house where he had been lunching with a man, he took the wrong turning. So far as he was able to see at all, he saw that he had blundered into a neighbourhood which was strange to him. A humble neighbourhood, apparently, with nothing of a watering-place about it. This being Boxing-day, the little shops to which he came were shuttered, and owing to the weather, few people were abroad. He wandered amid dim desertion. Then as he paused, hesitating, two girls emerged suddenly from the fog, and stopped before him.
"Oh!" exclaimed one of them, "could you tell us where Gandy's the greengrocer's is?"
"I am so sorry," said Conrad, "I can't. Can you direct me to the Parade?"
She answered absurdly that he was "coming away from it," though he was standing still. "It's over there," she said; "you go down there, and take the first on the left, and keep straight on. You can't miss it."
"I have missed it," demurred Conrad. "Thank you for rescuing me. I wish I could direct you to Gandy's the greengrocer's in return."
The other girl had not spoken yet, but now she said—
"Oh, never mind, thanks, we shall find it; they say it's quite near. But it's too dark to make out the names."
It was also too dark to make out her features, but her voice was delicious, and if the fog didn't flatter her, she was dowered with the eyes that he most ardently admired. He was all at once sensible of a keen interest in the whereabouts of the greengrocer's.
"That seems to be a shop at the corner; I'll go over and see what it is!" he said promptly. But it was a general dealer's, and he came back not displeased.
"Bother! We must find it!" cried the first girl.