"To a/c rendered." Later, she left to Madame the task of locking up. Near the print shop over the way, a tall young figure in a tweed suit marched from one unlighted lamp-post to another; the girl drew back to the staircase, snatching a space for consideration. The next moment she was crossing the street with the air of an art patron anxious to inspect before making a purchase. "You gave me such a start," she declared, as a hand touched her shoulder lightly. "I'd begun to think you'd disappeared altogether. Where've you been hiding?" "Do you mind very much," he asked, gazing down at her contentedly, "if I honour you with my company a part of the way?" "No objection whatever. Hasn't it been a scorcher? Up there, what with the heat and the noise of the machines going, it's made my head ache." "You won't care to go to a concert then. Shall we have a boat again in Regent's Park? We are both magnificent sailors." "I'd rather be somewheres where we can talk." "Why," he declared, "that is just what I should prefer. The similarity in our tastes is almost alarming." "Primrose Hill is rather a nice open space." "Sounds perfectly delightful," he agreed; "but I can't in the least guess where it is." "I know my way about London," said Gertie Higham. They walked along Oxford Street, the girl endeavouring to keep in step with him, and he attempting to keep in step with her; they appeared to decide near to Wells Street that it would be more convenient to fall back on individual methods. At the corner of Tottenham Court Road Gertie hailed a yellow omnibus which was on the point of starting; she skipped up the steps with a confidence that made the conductor's warning "'Old tight!" superfluous. "You didn't mind my sending out that message the other evening?" Beginning the conversation breathlessly. "I considered it kind of you to be so thoughtful." "It wasn't exactly that. I didn't want a row with aunt. What did you think of Mr. Trew?" "Do you know, it occurred to me that he looked rather like an omnibus driver."
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