’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. Only promise me this. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. You must let me take you to things—to meetings and things, to conferences and talks. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit.
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