The cab swerved its way through the traffic in Piccadilly Circus, and drew up with a jerk opposite Swan and Edgar's. We got out, and I handed the man a sovereign which I had ready.
He took it with a friendly smile.
"Thank ye, sir," he said, "an' good luck."
"It's my cab," said Bruce, as we turned into Regent Street.
"Very well," I answered, "we won't fight about it. You can pay me as soon as your green monkey pushes along those six millions."
By this time we were just opposite the entrance to the Piccadilly Hotel. As we passed, the door swung open, and a handsome woman, dressed in a long sable cloak, stepped out on to the pavement. In the roadway opposite, a liveried manservant was holding open the door of a smart electric brougham.
At the sight of us she paused, and her lips parted in one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen. We both took off our hats, but as Bruce made no attempt to stop I walked on with him.
"Who is she?" I whispered.
He stared at me.
"I don't know," he said. "I thought she was a friend of yours."