“All right, sir,” answered the porter, touching his cap.
“Keep a sharp look-out, you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
The rapidly lessening rattle of the hansom down the narrow street came back to Perkins as he closed the big gates for the night.
CHAPTER III.
As father and daughter approached Wimbledon a mutual silence came over them. Perhaps this was because they had talked so much in the office. When they passed the station gates, Sartwell said:
“We’ll have a cab, Edna, and blow the expense.”
“I don’t mind walking in the least; there is no fog here.”