Theydon posted himself at the outer window, and in a space of time so short that the excellence of the gray car's accelerator was amply demonstrated, the pursuer swung into sight.

A stolid-faced chauffeur at the wheel did not appear discomfited at coming on his quarry thus unexpectedly.

He whirled past, seemingly quite oblivious of Theydon's fixed stare.

Though the weather was mild he wore an overcoat with upturned collar, so that between its protecting flaps and a low-peaked cap his face was well hidden.

Still, Theydon received an impression of a curiously wooden physiognomy.
The man might have been an automaton for all the heed he gave to the taxi or its inquisitive occupant.