"But to think that I drove that rascally murderer in my cab, and put him down safe and sound not ten minutes ago!" came with the adjunct of a loud oath from the irate chauffeur.
"How did it all occur?"
The gardiens tried to stem the flow of the driver's eloquence; such details should first be given to the police. Voyons! But what were two fat mouchards against twenty stalwart idlers all determined to hear--and then there were the women--they were determined to know more.
Louisa bent her ear to listen. She was just outside the crowd--not a part of it--and there was no really morbid curiosity in her. It was only the call of the imagination which is irresistible on these occasions--the prosy, matter-of-fact, high-bred girl could not, just then, tear herself away from that cab and the tragedy which had been enacted therein, in the mysterious darkness whilst the unconscious driver sped along, ignorant of the gruesome burden...