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The Moon out of Reach by Margaret Pedler
page 30 of 500 (06%)

"Then get me another taxi--quick!" said Nan.

"W'ere from?"--contemptuously. "There ain't no taxi-rank 'ere in 'Yde
Park."

Nan looked hopelessly round. Cars and taxis, some with luggage and some
without, went speeding past her, but never a single one that was empty.

"Oh"--she turned desperately to her driver--"can't you do _anything_?
Run down and see if you can hail one for me. I'll stay by the taxi."

He shook his bead.

"Callin' taxis for people ain't my job," he remarked negligently. "I'm a
driver, I am."

Nan, driven by the extreme urgency of her need, stepped out into the
middle of the road and excitedly hailed the next taxicab that passed her
carrying luggage. The occupant, a woman, her attention attracted by
Nan's waving arm, leaned out from the window and called to her driver to
stop. Nan ran forward.

"Oh, _are_ you by any chance going to Paddington?" she asked eagerly.
"My taxi's broken down and I'm afraid I'll miss my train."

The woman smiled her sympathy. She had a delightful smile.

"How awful for you! But I'm not going anywhere near there. I'm so sorry
I can't help."
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