'At your service,' said Vandeloup, looking rapidly round to see that
no one overheard the name, 'but here I am Gaston Vandeloup.'
Meddlechip passed his handkerchief over his face and moistened his
dry lips with his tongue.
'How did you get here?' he asked, in a strangled voice.
'It's a long story,' said M. Vandeloup, putting his coffee cup down
and wiping his lips with his handkerchief; 'suppose we go and have
supper somewhere, and I'll tell you all about it.'
'I don't want any supper,' said Meddlechip, sullenly, his face
having regained its normal colour. 'Possibly not, but I do,' replied
Vandeloup, sweetly, taking his arm; 'come, let us go.'
Meddlechip did not resist, but walked passively out of the bar with
Vandeloup, much to the astonishment of the thin gentleman, who
called out to him but without getting any answer.
Meddlechip went to the cloak room and put on his coat and hat. Then
he followed Vandeloup down the stairs and paused at the door while
the Frenchman hailed a hansom. When it drove up, however, he stopped
short at the edge of the pavement.
'I won't go,' he said, determinedly.
Vandeloup looked at him with a peculiar gleam in his dark eyes, and
bowed.
'Let me persuade you, Monsieur,' he said, blandly, holding the door
of the cab open.
Meddlechip glanced at him, and then, with a sigh of resignation,
entered the cab, followed by Vandeloup.
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