"I shall be very glad to have your company," said Hanbury, who was sincerely moved at the loss and grief of the little clockmaker.
"Shall we walk or would you prefer to drive?"
"Let us drive, please. I have lost my stick. Ay, I have lost my crutch, my stick, my prop. You are very kind to let me go with you."
"Indeed I am very glad to be of any use I can."
And leaning on the arm of John Hanbury, Oscar Leigh limped out of the private bar of the Hanover.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
[OPEN CONFESSION.]
When the two men gained the open air no cab was in sight.
"If you will rest awhile here," said Hanbury, "I'll fetch a cab. I cannot see one up or down the street."
"No," said Leigh, a shudder passing through his frame. "Let us walk, if you do not mind. I could not bear to stay near this place any longer. Is it not strange that you should have wanted a cab in this spot forty-eight hours ago, and I should want it here now?"