They came to a quiet street.
The artist poked his head out of the window which he had dropped in the door.
“To the left—first house you come to.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Hello, there! who the deuce have you with you, driver?” as he caught sight of Eric.
“A friend, sir. Thought it’d be a lonely ride back, and took him for company,” replied jehu.
“All right, I suppose.”
That was over then, and no damage done. Now for the next.
The hack drew up in front of a picturesque cottage, just back from the road—as far as Eric could see it was bowered in vines and just the place an artist might be supposed to select, if he used his artistic taste at all.
Lights were in the rooms.