She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. ‘That would have grieved Jarvis. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. And now her father said she must not go. “But your hair,” he gasped. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park.
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