She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. The streets were full of colour. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me.
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