"I quite agree with you," I said. "It's horribly unsafe for a girl to be walking about London alone at this time of night. That's exactly why I propose to find you a cab."
She hurriedly laid her hand on my arm. "I don't understand," she said pitifully. "It's all so different from what I expected, but oh! please—please—"
There was a rumble of wheels, and a dejected-looking hansom came slowly trundling past. I signalled to the driver, who at once pulled up.
"Well, here we are," I said cheerfully; "so that settles the matter."
With a little gasp of relief she dropped my arm, and glanced nervously up and down the roadway.
I stepped forward and stood by the wheel so as to protect her dress. She got in, thanking me in an almost inaudible whisper.
"Good-night," I said, holding out my hand. "I'll leave you to tell the driver where you want to go."
There was an instant's pause, and then with a hurried gesture she bent forward and laid her hand in mine.
"Good-night," she said softly.
I felt the faint pressure of her fingers—the same slender fingers that had so nearly cut short my promising career, and a curious thrill of satisfaction ran suddenly through my heart.