Teddy grunted some inaudible reply, slammed the door of the car with unnecessary violence, and they were off. The London streets at this hour were swarming with motor busses, cars, cabs, and carriages--people going to dinners or the play. It was rather different to the empty roads in the neighbourhood of Ottinge, but Wynyard managed to thread his way to the theatre dexterously and speedily, and, when the lady jumped out of the car at the stage door, she clapped him on the back and said-- “You’ll do all right! Come round for me again at eleven--and don’t be getting into any mischief.” He touched his cap and moved away. Precisely at eleven o’clock he was waiting, and after some delay Tottie reappeared, in a condition of the highest excitement, screaming with laughter and carrying a gigantic bouquet. She was accompanied by a very _prononcée_ lady and three young men. With a good deal of noisy talking and chaffing they all packed themselves into the car, sitting on one another’s knees, and fared to the Savoy, where they had supper. Here again he waited outside until twelve o’clock and closing time; and as he sat, a motionless figure, a great deal of London life drifted by him: the rolling “Limousine,” emblem of luxury--broken-down, hopeless-looking men--members of the dreadful army of the unemployed--flaming women with the scarlet sign of sin in high relief. What a diabolical existence! At twelve his party reappeared--noisier and more hilarious than ever. It struck him that Tottie’s lady friend and two of the young men had had quite as much supper as was good for them. Once more they crammed into the car, the party returned to the flat to play bridge, and he at last was released! So this was now his life! late hours, excursions into the country on Sundays, trips to Brighton, to Folkestone, to Margate; he had no leisure, for, when Tottie was not making use of the car, the good-natured little creature--unlike Bella Parrett--lent it to her friends, and her friends made unreasonable use of it. They were all of the same class as herself: exuberant youths, who imagined that they were seeing life; prettily painted, beautifully dressed young women, whom the men called by their christian names; certain elderly gentlemen; and now and then a portly dame, who was spoken of as “Ma.” On one occasion, in Bond Street, Tottie and some of her vivacious companions were shopping--a showy party, with loud voices and louder clothes, scrambling into the motor at the door of a shop--when who should pass by but Sir Richard Wynyard! He glared at them, then glanced at the chauffeur. _What!_ his own nephew in the middle of such a rowdy crew! Owen touched his cap to him, but he vouchsafed no notice, and, with a glassy stare, stalked on.