"Have you—have you had many friends among women?"
"Never one; unless I may count you as a friend."
"Oh yes, you may count me—as a friend. Do you care for women?"
"I did not know it until now."
She laughed. I was glad to have lightened her mood.
"You are odd—you are really very quaint." She leaned out of the cab. "Where are we? I have not the least idea where you are taking me.
"To Victoria; to try to catch the Ostend boat."
"Ostend? Are we going there?"
"I think we'd better."
"But Well, I suppose it doesn't matter, but I really was not anticipating a trip to Ostend quite so soon. Just now you talked of Paris."
"And it may be Paris after all; only the Ostend boat goes first."
"And time's the essence of the matter. I see. Between this and the departure of the Paris train I run a risk of being arrested. That is to bring it very close."
I was still, hardly knowing what to say. What she said was true; this was a case in which, at any moment, truth might decline to be trifled
