’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the hang of their skirts. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. He went on with intense urgency.
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