I couldn't bear to have you read it now." Gammon had no difficulty in imagining the kind of epistle which Polly would desire suppressed; yet, for some obscure reason, he would rather have read it.

But his promise was given.

Polly, in turn, promised to write another letter for him as soon as possible.
So they drove in a hansom, through a night which washed the fog away, to Kennington Road, and whilst Polly kept her place in the vehicle Gammon ran upstairs.

There lay the letter on his dressing-table.

He hastened down with it, and before handing it to its writer kissed the envelope.
"Go along!" exclaimed Polly, in high good humour, as she reached out with eager fingers.
Late as it was he accompanied her to Shaftesbury Avenue, and they parted tenderly after having come to an agreement about the next evening..