Bedsides, we should try to keep our lark in fine feather instead of subjecting it to the discomforts of a gridiron in some--" His observations came to an abrupt close as both he and his companion pitched forward violently, barely saving themselves from projection through the glass.

The hansom had come to a sudden stop, and outside there was a confused sound of shouting with the crunching of wood and the scraping of wheels.

The horse plunged, the cab rocked sharply and then came to a standstill.
"What is it ?" gasped Grace, trying to straighten her hat and find her bag at the same time.

Hugh managed to raise the glass and peer dazedly forth into the gathering night.

A sweep of fine rain blew into their faces.