In his anger with Mr. Rudd he moved away from the cab. Without a moment's delay Pollie jumped into it, and dragged me after her.
"Drive off, and don't stop for anyone!"
It was done so quickly that before Mr. Lander had an opportunity to realise what was happening the driver gave his horse a cut of the whip. The creature gave a bound which it was a wonder to me did not upset the hansom, and when his master struck him again he galloped off as if he were racing for the Derby.
After we had gone a little way—at full pelt!—the driver spoke to us through the trap-door overhead.
"Where to, miss?"
"Is he following us?"
"Not he. He tried a step or two, but when he saw at what a lick we were going he jerked it up. He went back and had a row with the other chap instead, the one who came up and spoke to him I mean. They're at it now. Has he been bothering you, miss?"
"I don't know anything at all about him. He's a perfect stranger to me. I think he must be mad. Drive us to the Westminster Bridge Road, if you are sure that he’s not following."
"I'll see that that's all right, you trust me." He swung round a corner. "He's out of sight now, I should think for good; but if he does come in sight again I'll let you know. What part of the Westminster Bridge Road?"
Pollie hesitated.
"I'll tell you when we get there."
