The Lady from Long Acre
 "I—I forgot," she stammered.  "I can't take a taxi. I—I haven't any money with me." 

 There was a moment's pause, while the driver bent forward from his box listening with interest to the spirited echoes from Long Acre. 

 "That's all right," remarked Tony.  "We will talk about it in the cab."  He turned to the driver. "Take us to Verrier's," he said. It was the first place that happened to come into his head. 

 The man jerked his head in the direction of the noise.  "Bit of a scrap on from the sound of it, sir!" he observed. 

 Tony nodded.  "Yes," he said regretfully, "it's a quarrelsome world." 

 He helped his companion into the taxi, and then following himself, shut the door. The vehicle started off with a jerk, and as it swung round the corner into Coventry Street, its occupants were able to catch a momentary glimpse of the spot they had so recently quitted. It appeared to be filled by a small but animated crowd, in the centre of which a cluster of whirling figures was distinctly visible. Tony heard the girl beside him give a faint gasp of dismay. 

 "It's all right," he said.  "Bugg's used to fighting. He likes it." 

 She looked up at him anxiously.  "He is a soldier?" she asked, in that soft attractive voice of hers. 

 Tony suppressed a laugh just in time.  "Something of the sort," he answered. Then with a pleasant feeling that the whole adventure was becoming rather interesting he added: "I say, I have told the man to drive us to Verrier's. I hope if you aren't in a hurry you will be charitable and join me in a little supper—will you? I'm simply starving." 

 By the light of a passing street lamp he suddenly caught sight of the troubled expression that had come into her eyes. 

 "Do just what you like, of course," he added quickly.  "If you would rather I drove you straight home——" 

 "As a matter of fact," said the girl with a sort of desperate calmness.  "I haven't a home to go to." 

 There was another brief pause.  "Well, in that case," remarked Tony cheerfully, "there is no possible objection to our having a little supper—is there?" 

 For a moment she stared out of the window without replying. It was plain that she was the prey of several 
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