His countenance was full of craft and cunning; his smile was sufficient index to his character.
Soon after ten o’clock, while standing at the corner of Pembridge Gardens, he suddenly drew back into the shadow, turned upon his heel and crossed the road to the station, in order to avoid notice.
Having gained the opposite pavement, he drew back again into the shadow, and saw a female figure in a short dark skirt, and wearing a handsome white fox boa, hurrying across the road in his direction.
She passed him, and he for the first time caught sight of her pretty face. It was Gwen Griffin.
Apparently she was in a frantic hurry, for she rushed into the booking-office and in her haste to get a ticket, dropped her purse. Then, when she had run down the stairs to the platform, the silent watcher followed leisurely, obtained a ticket for Earl’s Court, but was careful not to gain the platform until the girl had already left.
“I thought the story would alarm her,” he laughed to himself as he stood awaiting the next “Circle” train. “Ah, my fine young fellow, you’ve made a great and a most fatal error!” he added with a dry laugh, as he paced the platform.