“Still the Grand Hotel!”
For a moment he looked her steadily in the eyes, then said quietly—
“And my address is still the Carlton Club!” He bowed, and turned into the house.
The footman banged the door of the taxi, and stood awaiting instructions.
“T–wenty-two, Laburnum Crescent,” said Claire weakly. Halfway through the words a sudden obstacle arose in her throat. It was all she could do to struggle through. She hoped to goodness the footman did not notice.
“There now! what did I tell you? You look fagged to death, and as cross as two sticks. Five shillings wasted on taxis, and nothing for it but getting thoroughly upset. Next time I hope you will take my advice!” said Cecil, and took up her candle to grope her way up the dark stairway to bed.