The porter opened obsequiously for her, and,
at her nod, hurried to the edge of the pavement and whistled for a
taxi. The two lights of a vehicle almost immediately curved round
towards her, like two eyes.
Gerald had followed in wonder, amid all the booing, not having caught
her misdeed. He heard the Pussum's voice saying:
'Go and get it back from her. I never heard of such a thing! Go and get
it back from her. Tell Gerald Crich--there he goes--go and make him
give it up.'
Gudrun stood at the door of the taxi, which the man held open for her.
'To the hotel?' she asked, as Gerald came out, hurriedly.
'Where you like,' he answered.
'Right!' she said. Then to the driver, 'Wagstaff's--Barton Street.'
The driver bowed his head, and put down the flag.
Gudrun entered the taxi, with the deliberate cold movement of a woman
who is well-dressed and contemptuous in her soul. Yet she was frozen
with overwrought feelings. Gerald followed her.
'You've forgotten the man,' she said cooly, with a slight nod of her
hat.
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