"How can you be so extravagant?" she murmured.
"When one's with you, it's a crime to think of anything else."
"What a good thing I'm leaving you!" she laughed.
He insisted on getting and helping her into her coat. As she put her
arms into the sleeves, he murmured:
"Where did you get your hair?"
"Do try and talk sense," she pleaded, not insensible to the man's
ardent admiration.
Then, with something like a sigh, she left the warmth and comfort of
the restaurant for the bleakness of the street, on which a thick fog
had descended.
This enveloped the man and the woman. As they stood on the pavement,
it seemed to cut them off from the rest of the world.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE SEQUEL
"Will you let me drive you home?"
"No, thank you."
"Then you must let me walk with you."
"There's no necessity."
"I insist. London, at this time of night, isn't the place for a
plain little girl like Mavis."
"Now you're talking sense."
"I wish I thought it," he remarked bitterly.
He paid the cabman and piloted Mavis through the fog to the other
side of Regent Street; they then made for Piccadilly.
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