A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. But next moment, Captain Roding put up her back. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha.
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