"Home?" she answered. "Yes, I'm leaving it. Good-by again. Don't let me
keep you. Certainly I'm leaving home. Indeed, I believe I have left it
already--for good."
And she threw back her head and laughed.
Upon the doorstep a cold rush of air met Mr. Iglesias. Above, the sky
was blue-black and very clear. The road was vacant and grey with frost.
The flame of the gaslamps quivered, giving off a sharp brightness in
the keen atmosphere. Mr. Iglesias turned up the collar of his coat and
descended the steps. Just then a hansom emerged from the distance and
drew up with a rattle and grind against the curb some twenty paces
ahead. The occupant, a young man, flung back the doors with a thud, and
stood a moment on the footboard paying the driver, who raised himself,
leaning forward with outstretched hand across the glistening black roof
of the cab. Then the young man turned round, swung himself down on to
the asphalt pavement, and came forward as rapidly as a long motor-coat,
reaching to his heels, would permit. He was tall and fair,
well-favoured, preoccupied, not to say morose. He did not vouchsafe Mr.
Iglesias so much as a glance as he brushed past him. The road was still
vacant, and in the frosty air sounds carried. Mr. Iglesias distinctly
heard him race up a neighbouring flight of steps, heard the click and
turn of a latchkey in a lock, heard the slam of a front door pulled to
violently. And so doing Dominic turned cold and a little faint. He
would not condescend to look back; but he had recognised Alaric
Barking, and was in no doubt which house he had entered.
"Keb, sir? 'Ere yer are, sir," the cabby called cheerily. "Very cold
night. Just set one gentleman down, and 'appy to tike another up. Want
to get back to my comfy little West End shelter, so I'll tike yer for
'alf fares, sir, though we are outside the blooming radius."
But Iglesias shook his head. The horse stood limply in a cloud of
steam. Alaric Barking had evidently pushed the pace. But even had the
animal been in better condition, Iglesias had no desire to drive in
that particular cab. He would rather have walked the whole way to Cedar
Lodge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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