He let down the window and threw away the end of his cigarette.
"I thought you were going to die that day," he murmured half to himself. "When I handed you over to your maid.… Lady Barbara, why don't you take a little more care of yourself?"
"D'you think I should be missed?"
"I can well imagine—— Here! He's going wrong!"
The carriage had overshot Berkeley Street; but, as Eric leaned towards the open window, Barbara caught him suddenly by the wrist and shoulder until she had turned him to face her.
"Where d'you live?" she demanded peremptorily; and, when he had told her, "Put your head out and tell him to go there."
"But we're almost in Berkeley Square now."
"Do as I tell you! I'm coming to pay you a call."
He disengaged her hands and lay back in his corner.