Considering
their solitariness in the crowd, he thought, there was
no reason why he should not say that he was under the
impression she liked the smell of tobacco.
"There are other places," she went on. "There is a sweet
little green-and-white place like a dairy in Oxford
Street, that calls itself the 'Hyacinth,' which is sacred
to ladies and to gentlemen properly chaperoned. If you
would invite me to dine with you there I should like it
very much."
"Anywhere," he said. He accepted her proposal to dine at
the "Hyacinth" with the same unquestioning pleasure which
he would have had in accepting her proposal to dine at
the top of the Monument that evening; but he felt an
under perplexity at its terms, which was vaguely disturbing.
How could it possibly matter? Did she suppose that she
advanced palpably nearer to the proprieties in dining
with him in one place rather than the other? There was
an unreasonableness about that which irritated him.
He felt it more distinctly when she proposed taking an
omnibus instead of the cab he had signalled. "Oh, of
course, if you prefer it," he said; and there was almost
a trace of injured feeling in his voice. It was so much
easier to talk in a cab.
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