David was gone, in a heat of action. He took no cab, however, but took to his heels, so that he might be able to spy at the occupants within and on the top of each bus on the line of route, by running a little faster than the vehicles. At this hour London was already out of doors, going shopping, going to office and works. It was a bright morning, like the beginning of spring. People turned their heads to look at the man who ran faster than the horses, and pried into the buses. Victoria, Whitehall, Charing Cross, he passed--still he could see no one quite like Jenny. He began to lose hope, finding, moreover, that running in London was not like running in Wyoming, or even like his run from Bucks. Here the air seemed to lack body and wine. It did not repay the lungs' effort, nor give back all that was expended, so that in going up the steep of Lower Regent-St. he began to breathe short. Nevertheless, to reward him, there, not far from the Circus, he saw sitting patient in a bus-corner the sailor hat, the bolero, the Chinese eyes, and reddish white hair of Jenny. The moment she stepped out, two men sprang forward to address her--David and Van Hupfeldt's valet. Van Hupfeldt lived near the lower portion of Hanover Square, the way to which being rather shut in and odd to one who does not know it, his restlessness had become unbearable when Jenny was a little late, so he had described her to his valet, a whipper-snapper named Neil--for Van Hupfeldt had several times seen Jenny with Miss L'Estrange--and had sent Neil to Piccadilly Circus, where he knew that Jenny would alight, in order to conduct her to his rooms. However, as Neil moved quickly forward, David was before him, and the valet thought to himself: "Hello, this seems to be a case of two's company and three's none." David was saying to Jenny: "You are Miss L'Estrange's servant?" "I am," answered Jenny. "She sent me after you. I must speak with you urgently. Come with me." Now, in Jenny's head were visions of nothing less than wealth--wealth which she was eager to handle that hour. She said, therefore, to David: "I don't know who you are. I can't go anywhere--" They stood together on the pavement, with Neil, all unknown to David, behind them listening. "There's no saying 'No,'" insisted David. "You're going to see Mr. Strauss, aren't you? Well, I am here instead of Mr. Strauss in this matter." But this ambiguous remark failed of its effect, for Neil, whose master had told him that in this affair he was not Van Hupfeldt but Strauss, intervened with the pert words: "Begging your pardon, but I am Strauss." However, this short way of explaining that he was there on behalf of Strauss was promptly misunderstood by Jenny, who looked with disdain at the valet, saying: "You are not Mr. Strauss!" "Of course he isn't," said David, quickly. "How dare you, sir, address this lady? Come right away, will you? Come, now. Let's jump into this cab."