He did not ask her if she wanted to be driven there, but intimated with a shake of his grey head that Paddington was a goodish walk.

Then he gave her directions for finding it--implicit and repeated directions, as though his all-seeing eye had also divined that she was a stranger to the ways of London.
Sisily thanked him and turned away, repeating his directions so that she should not have to ask anybody else.

First to the right, second to the left, along Tottenham Court Road to Oxford Street, up Oxford Street to Edgeware Road, down Edgeware Road to Praed Street--so it ran.

She followed them carefully, and found herself on Paddington station a quarter of an hour before the departure of the express.
She entered a third-class carriage, but sat in a corner seat, longing for the train to move out.

The minutes dragged slowly, and passengers kept thronging in.