There was no mistaking her figure.

This lady, then, followed at a distance by her slave, walked on toward Hercules Buildings; and it was his miserable fate to see her look uneasily round, and at last glide in at a side door, close to the silk-mercer's shop.
The carriage stopped.

Sir Charles came himself to the door.
"Now, Vane," said he, "before I consent to go any further in this business, you must promise me to be cool and reasonable.

I abhor absurdity; and there must be no swords drawn for this little hypocrite." "I submit to no dictation," said Vane, white as a sheet.
"You have benefited so far by my knowledge," said the other politely; "let me, who am self-possessed, claim some influence with you." "Forgive me!" said poor Vane.

"My ang--my sorrow that such an angel should be a monster of deceit." He could say no more.
They walked to the shop.
"How she peeped, this way and that," said Pomander, "sly little Woffy! "No! on second thoughts," said he, "it is the other street we must reconnoiter; and, if we don't see her there, we will enter the shop, and by dint of this purse we shall soon untie the knot of the Woffington riddle." Vane leaned heavily on his tormentor.
"I am faint," said he.
"Lean on me, my dear friend," said Sir Charles.