Suddenly I recollected that I might gather something from the driver, and I inquired where he had taken me up.
“In Albert Road, Battersea, sir.”
This surprised me, for I had no idea that I had been on the Surrey side of the river.
I explained to the man my blindness, and asked him to describe the lady who had put me into this cab.
“Well, sir,” he said, “she was very pretty indeed, with grey eyes and darkish hair.”
“She was good-looking—eh?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a much prettier young lady.”
I sighed. How tantalising it was that my poor sightless eyes had been unable to gaze upon her.
“Describe her more closely,” I urged. “I’m anxious to know exactly what she’s like.”
“She had lovely eyes, sir. Her hair seemed a bit untidy, but it was a pretty shade of dark-brown. Her face seemed innocent-looking, like a child’s. I was surprised to see her like that.”