“Fares, all fares, please,” said the conductor beside them. Micky dived into a pocket and found a shilling.
“Two, please,” he said.
He had paid for and shared taxicabs with Marie Deland times without number, but it had never given him 36 quite the same pleasurable little thrill as he experienced at this moment.
There was something so pleasantly familiar about this tramcar ride, the fact of sharing the same uncomfortable seat with Esther Shepstone.
“Penny ones?” the conductor asked.
Micky looked at the girl.
“Where shall we get off?” he asked.
“Penny ones will do,” she said.
Micky took the tickets and pocketed his change.
“I don’t know if there are any decent teashops round here,” he said dubiously. “If you would rather go up to the West End....”