"Not see it?"
"If you're thousands of miles away."
"It is a pity," Peter said; "and since you mention it I don't mind frankly telling you—throwing myself on your mercy, as it were—that that's why I make such a point of a rare occasion like to-night. I've a weakness for the drama that, as you perhaps know, I've never concealed, and this impression will probably have to last me, in some barren spot, for many, many years."
"I understand—I understand. I hope therefore it will be charming." And Biddy walked faster.
"Just as some other charming impressions will have to last," Peter added, conscious of a certain effort that he was obliged to make to keep up with her. She seemed almost to be running away from him, a circumstance which led him to suggest, after they had proceeded a little further without more words, that if she were in a hurry they had perhaps better take a cab. Her face was strange and touching to him as she turned it to reply quickly:
"Oh, I'm not in the least in a hurry, and I think, really, I had better walk."
"We'll walk then, by all means!" Peter declared, with slightly exaggerated gaiety; in pursuance of which they went on a hundred yards. Biddy kept the same pace; yet it was scarcely a surprise to Sherringham that she should suddenly stop with the exclamation:
"After all, though I'm not in a hurry I'm tired! I had better have a cab; please call that one," she added, looking about her.
They were in a straight, black, ugly street, where the small,
