At a
corner someone going in the opposite direction caught sight of her
and stopped. Polly was so preoccupied that she would not have
noticed the figure had it merely passed; by stopping it drew her
attention, and she beheld Christopher Parish.
"Why, Miss Sparkes!"
He held out his hand, but to no purpose. Polly had her eyes fixed
upon him, and they flashed with hostility.
"What do you mean by it?"
"Mean by what?"
The young man was astonished; his hand dropped, and he trembled
before her.
"How dare you spy after me? Nasty little wretch!"
"Spy after you, Miss Sparkes? Why, I hadn't the least idea of
anything of the kind; I swear I hadn't! I was just taking a walk--"
"Oh, yes! Of course! You're always taking a walk, aren't you? And
you always come just this way 'cause it's nice and convenient for
Lambeth Road, ain't it? I've a good mind to call a p'liceman and
give you in charge for stopping me in the street!"
"Well, did ever anybody hear such a thing as this?" exclaimed Mr.
Parish, faint in voice and utterly at a loss for protestations at
all effective.
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