He asked me to have a bit of dinner, and we came to terms over the cheese.' In this strain did Luckworth Crewe continue to talk across the gloomy solitudes of Soho.

And Nancy would on no account have had him cease.
She was fascinated by his rough vigour and by his visions of golden prosperity.

It seemed to her that they reached very quickly the restaurant he had in view.

With keen enjoyment of the novelty, she followed him between tables where people were eating, drinking, smoking, and took a place beside him on a cushioned seat at the end of the room.
'I know you're tired,' he said.

'There's nearly half-an-hour before you need move.' Nancy hesitated in her choice of a refreshment.