Bartley was making a third round of the Square when he heard the far-flung hoof-beats of a hansom-cab horse, driven rapidly.

He looked at his watch, and was astonished to find that it was a few minutes after twelve.

He turned and walked back along the iron railing as the cab came up to Hilda's number and stopped.

The hansom must have been one that she employed regularly, for she did not stop to pay the driver.

She stepped out quickly and lightly.