“Oh, do take my arm!” he exclaimed. “What is it? Are you suffering?”
After a pause she said:
“Yes.”
There seemed to him something ominous in the sound of the word as she spoke it.
“I’m horribly sorry. I must find you a cab.”
“Yes, please do.”
“But in Soho, it’s so difficult! Can you manage—can you walk a little way?”
“Oh yes.”
“Directly we get into Shaftesbury Avenue we are sure to see one. It’s only a step.”
She had taken his arm, but she did not lean heavily on it, only just touched it. He hardly felt the weight of her hand. Evidently she was not feeling faint, or very weak. He wondered intensely what was the matter. But she did not give any explanation. She had made that ominous answer to his question, and there she left it. He did not dare to make any further inquiry, and as she said nothing they walked on in silence. As they were turning into Shaftesbury Avenue an empty taxicab passed them with the flag up.