We walked silently up the court. The lady at the window greeted us with
a smiling salutation, Mr. Finneymore removed his pipe and raised his
cap, receiving a gracious bow from Ruth in return, and then we passed
through the covered way into Fetter Lane, where my companion paused and
looked about her.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"The detective," she answered quietly. "It would be a pity if the poor
man should miss me after waiting so long. However, I don't see him"; and
she turned away towards Fleet Street. It was an unpleasant surprise to
me that her sharp eyes had detected the secret spy upon her movements;
and the dry, sardonic tone of her remark pained me, too, recalling, as
it did, the frigid self-possession that had so repelled me in the early
days of our acquaintance. And yet I could not but admire the cool
unconcern with which she faced her horrible peril.
"Tell me a little more about this conference," she said, as we walked
down Fetter Lane. "Your note was rather more concise than lucid; but I
suppose you wrote it in a hurry.
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