When Traill had handed her her coffee, his sister moved slowly across
the room to the settle where her fur coat, scarf and gloves were
lying.
"You're not going?" he asked, looking up.
"Yes, I must, my dear boy. It's getting on for ten. Harold's got some
people coming in after the theatre, and I believe we've got a supper.
Do you think you could get me a taxi?"
"There's not a stand here. But you can get any amount of hansoms."
"Yes, but I want to get home. You're sure to find heaps of empty ones
in Piccadilly Circus just at this time. Run and see--do. I'll be
putting on my coat."
Traill went--obedient. They heard him taking the stairs two at a time
in the darkness. Then the door slammed.
"One of these days he'll break his neck down those stairs," said Mrs.
Durlacher. "Do you live in Town, Miss Bishop?"
She ran one sentence into the other inconsequently, as if they had
connection.
"Well--not exactly," said Sally. "I live in Kew."
"Oh yes--Kew--it's a very pretty place. There are some delightful
old houses on the Green--the gardens side--I believe they're King's
property, aren't they?"
"I know the ones you mean," said Sally; "they are very nice, but I
don't live there.
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