He watched the road. They were running by Kensington Gardens.

For the first time his lips opened.

“Shall we get out and go into the park,” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, quietly, not sure what was coming.

After a moment he took the tube from its peg. She saw the stout, strong, self-contained driver lean his head.

“Stop at Hyde Park Corner.”

The dark head nodded, the car ran on just the same.

Presently they pulled up. Skrebensky paid the man. Ursula stood back. She saw the driver salute as he received his tip, and then, before he set the car in motion, turn and look at her, with his