Who the devil was Crum, to say that?
If Crum had been beside him at that moment, he would certainly have been jostled off the pavement.

His own father--his own! A choke came up in his throat, and he dashed his hands down deep into his overcoat pockets.

Damn Crum! He conceived the wild idea of running back and fending his father, taking him by the arm and walking about with him in front of Crum; but gave it up at once and pursued his way down Piccadilly.

A young woman planted herself before him.

"Not so angry, darling!" He shied, dodged her, and suddenly became quite cool.