"You think I'm down on my luck," he retorted, "and so anybody has a right
to butt in."
"Not a right. Of course, if I'd met you in Bond Street, all sleek and
polished, I shouldn't have dreamed of butting in. I should have said to
myself, 'Well, that's the end of the little Robert Stonehouse saga as far
as I'm concerned,' and I don't suppose I should ever have thought of you
again. But now I shall have to go on thinking--and wondering what
happened--and worrying." She drew her cloak closer about her like a bird
folding its wings, and added prosaically: "I say, don't you find it
rather cold standing about here?"
He turned with her and walked on sullenly, his head down to the wind. He
thought: "I shall tell her nothing at all." But to his astonishment she
was silent, and finally he had to speak himself.
"I'm afraid this silly business has broken up your party. Or was it
getting too lively for you? Howard's beanos used to have a considerable
reputation."
"He often seems drunk when he isn't," she returned tranquilly. "I think
it's because he enjoys things more than most people are able to. It
wasn't that. I wanted to see you so much, and I knew Brown's would be
closing about now. So I sent them to a theatre. It seemed the safest
place."
"And they went like lambs. But, then, the Banditti always did."
"Oh, the Banditti!" He guessed that she was smiling to herself. "The
Banditti wouldn't have grown up like that.
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