Lawrence interposed with what he intended to be an assumption of the grand manner.
“My good Mr. Railway-porter, or whatever you may be, I will remove myself from your objectionable station without any hint from you. My destination was Ostend, and is now Pimlico. This is an acquaintance of mine who owes me £1880; but I don’t require him to take charge of me. There already is somebody who does that. Can’t you hear her? That’s her laughing.”
“Come,” I said. “Let’s get into a cab.”
“Thank you, I prefer walking. Nothing like exercise when you are liverish. Are you alone?”
Miss Moore came through the crowd.
“No; I am with him.”
He stared at her as if in doubt; then with sudden recognition—
“Ah! It is the sister of the brother—the affectionate relative of our dear Tom—the beautiful Miss Moore! It is like a scene out of one of the plays in which you are the bright, particular star. The ghosts are gathering round. You were there; you saw her?”
“Who?”
“The Goddess!”