You can keep the cab." "But what will your maid think ?" asked Septimus, who for all his vagueness had definite traditions as to the proprieties of life.
"What does it matter?
What does anything in this ghastly world matter?
I'm frightened, Septimus, horribly frightened.

I daren't go up by myself.

Oh! Come!" Her voice broke on the last word.

Saint Anthony would have yielded; also his pig.

Septimus handed her out of the cab, and telling the cabman to wait, followed her through the already opened front door of the Mansions up to her flat.