The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. She decided to go out into the London afternoon again and get something to eat in an Aerated Bread shop or some such place, and perhaps find a cheap room for herself. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. I said to myself, ‘this will come. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. " "That, alone, ought to have prevented you from acting as you did, Jack," returned Thames, gravely.
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