"And carry our luggage? Supposing a policeman asks us where we're going?" "Oh, bother policemen! Come along. You don't seem to be enjoying yourself nearly as much as I am. I care for nobody. I'm off with the raggle-taggle gipsies--oh," she lightly sang. Maria mewed at the sound of his mistress's voice. "You're as bad as Maria," she went on, reproachfully. "Look how nice the lamp-posts look. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, I can see. Let's bet how many lamp-posts we pass before we're safe in our own house." They set out for London by the road along the Heath. At first trees overhung the path, and they passed pool after pool of checkered lamplight that quivered in the wet road. Followed a space of open country where they heard the last whispers of a slight and desultory wind. Soon they were inclosed by mute and unillumined houses on either side, until they found themselves on the top of Haverstock Hill, faced by the tawny glow of the London sky, and stretching before them a double row of lamp-posts innumerable and pale that converged to a dim point in the heart of the city below. "I think I'm rather frightened," Sylvia said. "Or perhaps I'm a little tired." "Shall we go back?" Arthur suggested. "No, no. We'll just rest a moment or two, and I'll be all right." They sat down on their bags, and she stroked Maria pensively. Sylvia was relieved when the silence was interrupted by a policeman. She felt the need of opposition to drive away the doubts that took advantage of that first fatigue to shake her purpose. "Now then, what are you doing?" he demanded, gruffly. "We're sitting down," Sylvia informed him. "Loitering isn't allowed here," the policeman said. "Where is it allowed, please?" she asked, sweetly. "Loitering isn't allowed nowhere," the policeman declared. "Well, why did you say it wasn't allowed here?" she continued. "I thought you were going to tell us of a place where it was allowed." Arthur jogged Sylvia's elbow and whispered to her not to annoy the policeman. "Come along, now, move on," the policeman commanded. In order to emphasize his authority he flashed his bull's-eye in Sylvia's face. "Where do you live?" he asked, after the scrutiny. "Lillie Road, Fulham. We missed the last train from Hampstead, and we're walking home. I never heard of any rule against sitting on one's own luggage in the middle of the night. I think you'd better take us to the police station. We must rest somewhere." The policeman looked puzzled. "What did you want to miss your train for?" he asked. "We didn't want to miss it," Sylvia gently explained. "We were very angry when we missed it. Come on, Arthur, I don't feel tired any longer." She got up and started off down Haverstock Hill, followed by Arthur.