"
The young woman bounced out in a fury, and Brett followed her, silently
thanking the favouring planets which had sent him down the stairs at the
very moment when the girl was proffering her request to the clerk.
Fortunately, the weather was better now. There was a clear sky overhead,
and the streets looked quite cheerful after the steady downpour, London's
myriad lamps being reflected in glistening zigzags across the wet
pavement.
The girl did not head towards the busy Strand, but walked direct to
Charing Cross station on the District Railway.
The barrister thought she intended to go somewhere by train. He quickened
his pace in order to be able to rapidly obtain a ticket and thus keep up
with her. Herein he was lucky. To his surprise, she passed out of the
station on the embankment side.
He followed, and nowhere could he see her. Then he remembered the steps
leading to the footpath along the Hungerford Bridge. Running up these
steps he soon caught sight of the young woman, who was walking rapidly
towards Waterloo.
A man of the artisan class stared at her as she passed, and said something
to her. She turned fiercely.
"Do you want a swipe on the jaw?" she demanded.
No, he did not. What had he done, he would like to know.
"You mind your own business," she said. "Where am I goin', indeed.
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