He simply said with unaffected regret that there was no train till the morning, and stood looking thoughtfully at her face, veiled in black net, in the light of a gas lamp veiled in a gauze of mist.
Near him, her black form merged in the night, like a figure half chiselled out of a block of black stone.

It was impossible to say what she knew, how deep she was involved with policemen and Embassies.

But if she wanted to get away, it was not for him to object.

He was anxious to be off himself.

He felt that the business, the shop so strangely familiar to chief inspectors and members of foreign Embassies, was not the place for him.