The taxi pulled up and stood panting.
"Shares, please!" said Nan, when he had paid the driver.
For an instant a look of swift negation flashed across Mallory's face, then he replied composedly:
"Your share is two shillings."
Nan tendered a two-shilling piece, blessing him in her heart for refraining from putting her under a financial obligation to a stranger. He accepted the money quite simply, and turning away to speak to a porter, he tucked the two-shilling piece into his waistcoat pocket, while an odd, contemplative little smile curved his lips.
There was some slight confusion in the mind of the porter, who exhibited a zealous disposition to regard the arrivals as one party and to secure them seats in the same compartment.
Mallory, unheard by Nan, enlightened him quietly.
"I see, sir. You want a smoker?"
Mallory nodded and tipped him recklessly.
"That's it. You find the lady a comfortable corner seat. I'll look after myself."