I promised, on my honour, not to hand her over to the Turkish
consulate.

I took a four-wheeled cab from the rank on the Embankment and
drove her to Waterloo. On the way she reminded me that she was
hungry. I gave her food at the buffet. It appears she has a
passion for hard-boiled eggs and lemonade. She did not seem very
much concerned about finding Harry, but chattered to me about the
appointments of the bar. The beer-pulls amused her particularly.
She made me order a glass of bitter (a beverage which I loathe)
in order to see again how it was done, and broke into gleeful
laughter. The smart but unimaginative barmaid stared at her in
bewilderment. The two or three bar-loafers also stared. I was
glad to escape to the platform.

There, however, a group of idlers followed us about and stood in
a ring round us when we stopped to interview a railway official.
The beautiful, bronze-haired, ox-eyed young woman in her
disreputable attire--I have never seen a broken black feather
waggle more shamelessly--was a sight indeed to strike wonderment
into the cockney mind. And perhaps her association with myself
added to the incongruity. I am long and lean and unlovely, I
know; but it is my consolation that I look irreproachably
respectable. Of the two I was infinitely the more disturbed by
the public attention. "Calm and unembarrassed as a fate" she
returned the popular gaze, and appeared somewhat bored by my
efforts to find Harry. In the midst of an earnest discussion
with the station-master she begged me for a penny to put into
an automatic sweetmeat machine, which she had seen a small
boy work successfully. I refused, curtly, and turned to the