To me it was drawing it terribly fine, but I consented.

If he were not spurred on by thought of reward, short as the distance was, there was no knowing how long he would be.
At length the cab stopped.

It was a quarter-past eleven, and as I got out I noticed that we stood in front of one of those tall noble-looking mansions which are so common in Kensington.
"Wait a minute," I said to the cabby; "I want to be certain this is the right house." Meanwhile I noticed that my constant friend Simon held Kaffar by the arm.
I rang the bell violently, and a servant appeared at the door.
Did Miss Gertrude Forrest live there?
Yes.
Was she at home?
Yes.
Could I see her?
The servant was not sure, but would ascertain.

Miss Forrest was then engaged.
I stopped the man, for I did not wish to appear in the way that matters seemed to promise.

Meanwhile Simon had paid the cabby, and so the three of us stood together in the hall.
"I am an old friend of Miss Forrest's," I said to the man; "I want to be shown to the room where she is, without her being apprised of my presence." "I daren't," he replied; "it would be as much as my place is worth." "No, it would not," I replied.