Through the glass door, I saw her spring on to the foot-board of a passing hansom and give the driver some direction.

I saw the man whip up his horse, and, by the time I reached the door, the cab was moving off swiftly towards Sloane Street.
I stood irresolute.

I had not paid and could not run out of the shop without making a fuss, and my hat and stick were still on the rail opposite my seat.

The woman ought to be followed, but I had no fancy for the task.

If the tea that I had swallowed was innocuous, no harm was done and I was rid of my pursuer.