He only pretinded to pay the waiter."
"Playing a game, was he?" gasped the infuriated Tiger. "If I don't
play a little game on him when I get a chance my name is not Edith
d'Aubigne, the nasty mean beast--the----"
"Permit me, marm," said George, putting a shilling on the table, which
the waiter took and went away. "I can't bear to see a real lady like
you in difficulty."
"Well, you are a gentleman, you are," she said.
"Not at all, marm. That's my way. And now, marm, won't you have
another?"
No objection was raised by the lady, who had another, with the result
that she became if not exactly tipsy at any rate not far off it.
Shortly after this the building was cleared, and George found himself
standing in Exhibition Road with the woman on his arm.
"You're going to give me a lift home, ain't you?" she said.
"Yes, marm, for sure I am," said George, sighing as he thought of the
cab fare.
Accordingly they got into a hansom, and Mrs. d'Aubigne having given
the address in Pimlico, of which George instantly made a mental note,
they started.
"Come in and have a drink," she said when they arrived, and
accordingly he paid the cab--half-a-crown it cost him--and was ushered
by the woman with a simper into the gilded drawing-room.
Here the Tiger had another brandy-and-soda, after which George thought
that she was about in a fit state for him to prosecute his inquiries.
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