"They'll kill you here," she whispered. "Come with me. I've got to talk to you!"
"Lady—are you crazy?" demanded the tall head-porter, aghast.
But she had got him into the cab. "Drive on," she said through clenched teeth. And the chauffeur laughed and started east.
In the swaying cab the man beside her sat bent over, his face in his hands, blood striping the fingers of his gloves. With a shudder she placed the automatic weapon on the cushion beside her and shrank back, staring at him.
But his senses seemed to be returning, for presently he sat up, found his handkerchief, staunched the rather insignificant abrasion, and settled back into his corner. Without looking at her he said:
"Would you mind if I thank you? You have been very kind."
She could not utter a word.
Presently he turned; and as he looked at her for the first time a faint flicker of humour seemed to touch his eyes.
"Where are we going—if you don't mind?" he said pleasantly.
Then the breathless words came, haltingly.