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When all was said, how little he really knew about her! His need of her fought with his sense of discretion. It was not dignified that a man of his position and years should allow himself to become a shuttlecock in the hands of her capricious inexperience. Would he ever be able to bridge that gulf of years! Lady Beddow's unhappy criticism haunted him. "He lacks ardor."
Beddow, the keeper of the shop; and the narrow door in the shutters closed. The last stream of light was abruptly cut off. The face of the Stores was black. All the opposite side of the roadway was now black. There were no more silhouettes. Mr. Beddow's cheeks were very fat, and when he smiled his eyes disappeared into slits just behind the top of his bulging cheeks. He wore a light frizzly beard.
Tabs had the feeling as he limped along the pavement with Terry tripping at his side, that the eyes of the house which they had left followed them followed them jealously, romantically, expectantly. There was only one way in which they could give satisfaction and that was by returning to it engaged. "He lacks ardor. Perhaps, after all, he's too old!" Lady Beddow's criticism drummed in his mind.
Tabs had it on the tip of his tongue to say something more, but glanced at Terry and thought better of it. Instead he addressed her, "Do I drive you home?" The General interrupted. "It'll be out of your way. I'm going right past Miss Beddow's house." For the first time since they had been introduced Terry came between their hostility.
It was too early to dress not five o'clock yet. He made an estimate of the time he had to spare. If he walked across the Park to Sir Tobias Beddow's, that would take him from a half to three-quarters of an hour. At the earliest he wouldn't have to leave the house till six-thirty. So he had the best part of two hours during which to think out his line of conduct and to dress.
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