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hen he left the Athelnys’ Philip walked down Chan-
Wcery Lane and along the Strand to get a ‘bus at the
top of Parliament Street. One Sunday, when he had known
them about six weeks, he did this as usual, but he found the
Kennington ‘bus full. It was June, but it had rained during
the day and the night was raw and cold. He walked up to
Piccadilly Circus in order to get a seat; the ‘bus waited at
the fountain, and when it arrived there seldom had more
than two or three people in it. This service ran every quar-
ter of an hour, and he had some time to wait. He looked
idly at the crowd. The public-houses were closing, and there
were many people about. His mind was busy with the ideas
Athelny had the charming gift of suggesting.
Suddenly his heart stood still. He saw Mildred. He had
not thought of her for weeks. She was crossing over from
the corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and stopped at the shelter
till a string of cabs passed by. She was watching her oppor-
tunity and had no eyes for anything else. She wore a large
black straw hat with a mass of feathers on it and a black
silk dress; at that time it was fashionable for women to wear
trains; the road was clear, and Mildred crossed, her skirt
trailing on the ground, and walked down Piccadilly. Philip,
his heart beating excitedly, followed her. He did not wish to
speak to her, but he wondered where she was going at that