“You cowards!” said Ann Veronica, “put her down!” and tore herself from a detaining hand and battered with her fists upon the big red ear and blue shoulder of the policeman who held the little old lady. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. So go up-stairs and get your things together while I look out for a hansom. Here's a couple in hand. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him.
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