The taxicab slid away and Nan stood once more forlornly watching the
stream go by. The precious moments were slipping past, and no one in the
world looked in the least as if they were going to Paddington. The
driver, superbly unconcerned, lit up a cigarette, while Nan stood in the
middle of the road, which seemed suddenly to have almost emptied of
traffic.

All at once a taxi sped up the wide road with only a single suit-case
up-ended in front beside the chauffeur. She planted herself directly in
its path, and waved so frantically that the driver slowed up, although
with obvious reluctance. Someone looked out of the window, and with a
vague, troubled surprise Nan realised that the cab's solitary passenger
was of the masculine persuasion. But she was far beyond being deterred
by a mere detail of that description.

"Are you going to Paddington?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes, I am," came the answer. The speaker's voice had a slight,
well-bred drawl in it, reminiscent of the public school. "Can I do
anything for you?"

"You can drive me there, if you will," she replied, with the bluntness of
despair. "My taxi's broken down."

"But with pleasure."

The man was out of his own cab in an instant, and held the door open
while she paid her fare and ordered her luggage to be transferred. The
driver showed no very energetic appreciation of the idea; in fact, he