I'd teach him manners, or--" "You'll certainly get run over if you go on like that," interrupted Kate.
Indeed, the young man in his indignation was striding over a crossing without the slightest heed of the imminent danger which he ran from the stream of traffic.
"Don't be so excitable, Cousin Tom," she said, laying her gloved hand upon his arm; "there is nothing to be cross about." "Isn't there ?" he answered furiously.

"It's a pretty state of things that you should have to submit to insults from a brutal puppy like that fellow Ezra Girdlestone." The pair had managed by this time to get half-way across the broad road, and were halting upon the little island of safety formed by the great stone base of a lamp-post.

An interminable stream of 'buses--yellow, purple, and brown--with vans, hansoms, and growlers, blocked the way in front of them.

A single policeman, with his back turned to them, and his two arms going like an animated semaphore, was the only human being in their immediate vicinity.

Amid all the roar and rattle of the huge city they were as thoroughly left to themselves as though they were in the centre of Salisbury Plain.
"You must have a protector," Tom said with decision.
"Oh, Cousin Tom, don't be foolish; I can protect myself very well." "You must have some one who has a right to look after you." The young man's voice was husky, for the back part of his throat had become unaccountably dry of a sudden.
"You can pass now, sir," roared the constable, for there was a momentary break in the traffic.
"Don't go for a moment," Tom cried, desperately detaining his companion by the sleeve of her jacket.