She wore a costume in decidedly better taste than her companion's;
for all that, her appearance struck him as quite unlike that he
would have expected Eve Madeley to present. He had thought of her as
very plainly, perhaps poorly, clad; but this attire was ornate, and
looked rather expensive; it might be in the mode of the new season.
In figure, she was altogether a more imposing young woman than he
had pictured to himself. His pulses were sensibly quickened as he
looked at her.

The examination was of necessity hurried. Walking at a sharp pace,
they rapidly came close to where he stood. He drew aside to let them
pass, and at that moment caught a few words of their conversation.

"I told you we should be late," exclaimed the unknown girl, in
friendly remonstrance.

"What does it matter?" replied Eve--if Eve it were. "I hate
standing at the doors. We shall find seats somewhere."

Her gay, careless tones astonished the listener. Involuntarily he
began to follow; but at the edge of the pavement in Gower Street
they stopped, and by advancing another step or two he distinctly
overheard the continuation of their talk.

"The 'bus will take a long time."

"Bother the 'bus!" This was Eve Madeley again--if Eve it could
really be. "We'll have a cab. Look, there's a crawler in Euston
Road. I've stopped him!"