"He can't have come, after all," she said faintly. Farrow shrugged his shoulders. He was beginning to feel rather foolish.
Peg spoke to him sharply.
"Pay the man, and tell him to go. What's he think he's staring at?"
She was angry and shaken; she leaned against the closed yard gates, trembling from head to foot. Suddenly she laughed.
"Well—we've had a wild-goose chase," she said dryly. "Come on, we may as well go home. I daresay Mr. Forrester went to his club after all. Come on, I say," she added angrily as Farrow did not move. "What are you waiting for?"
But she knew before he answered, for at that moment Forrester's tall figure suddenly grew out of the darkness beside them.
He was making for the smaller gate, of which Peg knew he kept a duplicate key, and which led to the offices, and with sudden impulse she darted forward and caught his arm.
"Mr. Forrester!"
The Beggar Man turned sharply and peered down at her white face.