Otherwise she's difficult to describe; a bald enumeration of features would be rank injustice.' Drake's curiosity responded to the flick.
'One might fit them together with a little trouble,' he suggested.
'The metaphor of a puzzle is not inapt,' replied Fielding, as he opened his door.

'Good-night!' and he went in.
Half-way down Pall Mall Drake was smitten by a sudden impulse.

The fog had cleared from the streets; he looked up at the sky.

The night was moonless but starlit, and very clear.

He lifted the trap, spoke to the cabman, and in a few minutes was driving southwards across Westminster Bridge.
It was the chance recollection of a phrase dropped by Conway during dinner which sent him in this untimely scurry to Elm-tree Hill.