It was only one more of the many mysteries which surrounded Miss Davison like a network, and Gerard stared helplessly at her in the darkness which was now complete but for the light of the gas-lamps, which were not near enough to cast a light upon her face, the cab having stopped not exactly opposite to the police-station, but a few steps farther down the street. When the man stepped back from the cab, raising his hat in farewell, Miss Davison’s face advanced a little into the light, and Gerard was at last able to see her plainly. She looked haggard, fatigued, and excited, and it was plain that she had just been through another harrowing experience. Suddenly her expression changed to one of alarm, and he saw that she had recognized him. Putting her head out of the window, she called to the driver, who had just started his horse, to stop, and beckoning imperiously to Gerard, waited at the cab-window for him to come up. As he did so, he looked round for the other man, anxious to get a good look at him; but, in the moment when Gerard had been occupied with Miss Davison, the well-dressed man who never showed his face had disappeared. Gerard came slowly to the cab-window, raised his hat in sullen silence, and waited for her to speak. For a moment she appeared not to know what to say to him. Then, in a ferocious undertone, she said-- “You’ve been playing the spy!” “Well, what if I have?” She looked at him for a few moments, panting and angry, before she answered-- “You have no right to do it, no right at all. Do you think I haven’t troubles and cares enough, without your adding to them by this insulting persecution?” He drew himself up. “I can scarcely argue the point here,” he said coldly. “Of course not. Let me see.” She paused, and looked as it were stealthily out of both windows. He wondered whether she was looking for the man who had been speaking to her a moment before, the man who had beckoned her out of the tea-shop; and his absurd jealousy was roused again. “You had better come with me as far as Lady Jennings’,” she said coldly; “then you will perhaps be satisfied that, for the present, at least, you have no further need to play the spy.” For a moment he hesitated, and then he accepted the invitation. At any rate, he could warn her of Lilian’s visit, and of the message she had brought. Inconsistent and even unwarrantable as he felt his partisanship of this girl to be, he was glad of the opportunity of putting her on her guard against further dangers. He got inside the cab, and seated himself opposite to her. They drove in silence for some minutes; then she turned to him fiercely-- “What made you come here? Did you follow me all the way from the tea-shop?” “No. The girl brought out your cloak, which you had left on a chair, and I took it to Lady Jennings’. There, of course, I found that you had not come home, as you had said you were going to do.” “I see. And what did you do next?”