"Do you like Langton?" he asked.
"Oh, immensely—why? Oh, Lord, Solomon, what do you mean?"
"You were different in his presence, Julie, from anything you've been before."
They took a few paces in silence; then Peter had an idea, and glanced at her. She was laughing silently to herself. He let her hand fall from his arm, and looked away. He knew he was behaving like an ass, but he could not help it.
She stopped suddenly. "Peter," she said, "I want to talk to you. Take me somewhere where it's possible."
"At this hour of the evening? What about being late?"
She gave a little stamp with her foot, then laughed again. "What a boy it is!" she said. "Don't you know anywhere to go?"
Peter hesitated; then he made up his mind. There was an hotel he knew of, out of the main street, of none too good a reputation. Some men had taken Langton and him there, once, in the afternoon, between the hours in which drinks were legally sold, and they had gone through the hall into a little back-room that was apparently partly a sitting-room, partly part of the private rooms of the landlord, and had been served there. He recalled the description of one of the men: "It's a place to know. You can always get a drink, and take in anyone you please."
"Come on, then," he said, and turned down a back-street.
"Where in the world are you taking me?" demanded Julie. "I shall have no reputation left if this gets out."