“Won’t you find a taxi at Victoria? Or you can have this one, and I’ll walk; I’m nearly home now.”
To press his company on her any further would have been persecution.
“You have your latch-key?,” he asked. “And d’you want any money?”
“I’ve plenty, thanks. Good-night.”
He slammed the door to and turned back towards the Park. As he paused to light a cigarette, the noise of the taxi grew fainter and died almost away; then it seemed to become unaccountably clearer, and he looked up with surprise. The taxi was returning, and, though he could not see any one inside, the flag was down, and he recognized the driver. In another moment it had passed him and swept away to the right down Buckingham Gate. Eric started in pursuit. If his suspicions were anything but the fruit of a disordered imagination, Ivy Maitland was preparing to fight the unknown woman for possession of Gaymer.
His pace slackened, as he tried to think how he should explain or justify himself to Gaymer. He came to a standstill, as he remembered that he did not know Gaymer’s address.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE PRICE OF SYMPATHY
“Novelty is to love like bloom to fruit; it gives a lustre, which is easily effaced, but never returns.”