CHAPTER VIII

THE SPY-DRIVEN TAXI


On coming out of the Admiralty, Edestone, a trifle preoccupied, was
about to take the taxi with the rather sleepy driver which stood at
the head of the line. But the thought came to him, where shall I go?
As he had told Rebener, none of his pals were in town and he had
absolutely nothing to do until dinner at eight o'clock. Why not take
lunch at some quiet little place in the neighbourhood?

"I say, cabby, is there any sort of a decent restaurant around here
where one can get a very nice little lunch?"

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir"; the chauffeur rather abruptly came into
full possession of his faculties. "There is a very neat little place
right across the road, sir, thank you, sir," and he pointed in the
direction of the window at which Schmidt was sitting.

"Ah, thank you, cabby," said Edestone in his usual kind manner with
people of that class. He was rather struck by the handsome face of the
man, although it was covered over with grease and grime. "Here is a
shilling. Don't you think I might be able to walk that far this
beautiful day?"