“Yes, quite early,” Marian answered. “I like being quite early. You settle the bill, Ethel, and I’ll square up with you to-morrow.”
“You’ll let me see you into a cab?” Geraldstein protested.
“No, thanks. I can look after myself quite well.”
Geraldstein did not press the point, and Marian went away alone.
CHAPTER XII
It was on one of those warm, sunshiny mornings with which Londoners are sometimes startled in mid January that Maddison drove down to Victoria Station en route for Brighton. So glorious was the weather that, despite his heartache at parting with Marian, he found himself looking forward eagerly to his holiday by the sea.
The platform was crowded, and having run himself rather close for time, he found there would be difficulty in securing a comfortable seat. As he made his way along through the din and hubbub a hand was laid heavily on his shoulder and turning round sharply he faced Philip West.
“Hullo, Maddison, off to Brighton? Come along with us, I’ve got a compartment—lots of room, and the missis and Miss Lane. Mrs. West’s not been up to much lately, and the doctor says ‘Brighton.’ Might be worse; some pokey, invalidy place down in the South. I can manage to amuse myself in Brighton, and it’s convenient for town anyway.”
“Nothing much the matter, I hope?”