All at once, he felt a strong dislike of Lord Dymchurch, and even a certain contempt.
The man was not what he had thought him.
Crossing the street at Piccadilly Circus, he ran before a hansom, and from the hansom was waved a hand, a voice in the same moment calling out his name.

As a result of his stopping, he was very nearly run over by another cab; he escaped to the pavement; the hansom pulled up beside him, and he shook hands with Mrs.Woolstan.
"Are you going anywhere ?" she asked, her eyes very wide as they gazed at him.
"Nowhere in particular." "Then do come with me, will you?
I have to buy a present for Len's birthday, and I should be so glad of your help in choosing it." Dyce jumped into the vehicle, and, as his habit was, at once surveyed himself in the little looking-glass conveniently placed for that purpose.

The inspection never gratified him, and to-day less than usual.

Turning to his companion, he asked: "Does everybody look ugly in a hansom mirror ?" "What a question! I'm sure I can't tell you." Iris had coloured a little.

Her eyes involuntarily sought the slip of glass at her side of the seat, and the face she saw was assuredly not a flattering likeness.