Of a sudden she felt an arm round her waist, and a man, whose breath declared the source of his inspiration, began singing close to her ear the operatic ditty, 'Queen of my Heart.' He had, moreover, a good tenor voice, and belonged, vaguely, to some stratum of educated society.
'I think you had better leave me alone,' said Nancy, looking him severely in the face.
'Well, if you really think so,'-- he seemed struck by her manner of speech,--'of course I will: but I'd much rather not.' 'I might find it necessary to speak to a policeman at the next corner.' 'Oh, in that case.'-- He raised his hat, and fell aside.

And Nancy felt that, after all, the adventure had been amusing.
She was now in Regent Street, and it came to her recollection that she had made an appointment with Luckworth Crewe for nine o'clock.

Without any intention of keeping it; but why not do so?
Her lively acquaintance would be excellent company for the next hour, until she chose to bring the escapade to an end.

And indeed, save by a disagreeable struggle, she could hardly change the direction of her steps.

It was probably past nine; Crewe might have got tired of waiting, or have found it impossible to keep a position on the pavement.