At five the next day it began to rain. I was in Maximilian Street at the time, admiring the proportions of the thoroughfare and ready for anything. The rain suggested to me that I should take a taxi to the Rumpelmayer's of Munich. A closed one was crawling by the kerb opposite to me, on the far side of the road. I put up my stick, and it slowed down. I crossed to it, spoke to the driver, who scowled at me, seemingly because I approached him from the road and not from the pavement--Munich is very particular--and got in. As I sat back in the dark corner, the opposite door opened. The light of the offside lamps showed me two big, brown eyes, a dear, puzzled face, half wondering, half wanting to laugh, and a row of white teeth catching a red upper lip that trembled in a smile. The next moment their owner stepped quickly in, the driver let in his clutch with a jerk, and my unwitting companion was projected heavily into the corner--not mine--she had been about to occupy. She swore gently. "That's right," said I. She jumped properly. "Good Heavens!" "I'm so sorry, but I'm all right," said I, "I assure you. Young man of gentlemanly appearance. Harrow and Oxford, terms moderate, bathroom and domestic offices, possession early in June--" "Get out of my cab at once." "--will send photograph if required. Whose cab?" "Well, I engaged it." "So did I." "When?" "Just now." "How awfully funny." "Isn't it? I'm so glad. I'm English, too, you know. I can prove that by my German. And--" "But you don't want to go where I do." "But I do." "Don't be silly! You know what I mean." At this moment the off hind wheel of a big limousine, which was passing us, caught our near front wheel. The steering-wheel was knocked out of the cabman's hands, and we landed up against a lamp-post with a crash that flung my companion and myself on to the floor of the taxi. The girl cried out, put her small hand into my mouth, and sat up. I spoke into her glove. "Are you hurt?" "No, but I think I'm going to cry." "Don't, my dear. It's all right. All the same, it's an outrage and a casus belli. Where does the British Ambassador live?" Here the door was opened. The girl released me to adjust her hat, and I rolled on to the step and sat looking at a tall footman, who raised his hat and said something in German. The next minute a lady appeared. She began to speak in German, then: "Oh, you are English," she said. I rose and bowed stiffly. "Yes, madame, I have that honour." "I am so very sorry. I do hope you are not hurt." "I am only shaken, thank you." She looked into the cab. "My dear," she purred, "I am so terribly sorry. I hope you were not hurt either. I cannot say--" "No, I'm all right, thank you. I'll get out." Then she fainted. I caught her and carried her to the limousine. When I had set her on the deep seat, I turned to the lady. "I do not know where she lives," I said. "We have only met casually."