The woman in question was standing upon the doorstep of a milliner's shop, waiting for a taxicab.
In appearance she was certainly somewhat striking, but her hair was flagrantly dyed, her eyebrows darkened, her costume daring, her type obvious.
"A very fine woman indeed, I call her," Mr.Waddington repeated.
"Shouldn't mind taking her to lunch.

Good mind to ask her." Burton hesitated for a moment.

Then a curious change came into his own face.
"She is rather fetching," he admitted.
The woman suddenly smiled.

Mr.Waddington pulled himself together.
"It serves us right," he said, a little severely, and hastening his companion on.

"I was looking at her only as a curiosity." Burton glanced behind and move on reluctantly.
"I call her jolly good-looking," he declared.
Mr.Waddington pretended not to hear.