Cabs were not to be had; he must either explore the gloom, with risk of getting nowhere at all, or give it up and take a train back.

But he longed too ardently for the sight of Rhoda to abandon his evening without an effort.

Having with difficulty made his way into King's Road, he found progress easier on account of the shop illuminations; the fog, however, was growing every moment more fearsome, and when he had to turn out of the highway his case appeared desperate.

Literally he groped along, feeling the fronts of the houses.

As under ordinary circumstances he would have had only just time enough to reach his cousin's punctually, he must be very late: perhaps they would conclude that he had not ventured out on such a night, and were already dining without him.