All now depended upon securing a cab before the tram car had passed from view!
I counted it an act of Providence that a disengaged taxi appeared at that moment, evidently bound for Waterloo Station. I ran out into the road with cane upraised.
As the man drew up—
“Quick!” I cried. “You see that Greenwich car—nearly at the Ophthalmic Hospital? Follow it. Don’t get too near. I will give you further instructions through the tube.” I leapt in. We were off!
The rocking car ahead was rounding the bend now toward St. George’s Circus. As it passed the clock and entered South London Road it stopped. I raised the tube.
“Pass it slowly!”
We skirted the clock tower, and bore around to the right. Then I drew well back in the corner of the cab.
The woman with the basket was descending! “Pull up a few yards beyond!” I directed. As the car re-started, and passed us, the taxi became stationary. I peered out of the little window at the back.
The woman was returning in the direction of Waterloo Road!
“Drive slowly back along Waterloo Road,” was my next order. “Pretend you are looking for a fare; I will keep out of sight.”