"
"Do your best," cried Helen, and ran off rapidly around the corner, and
into Whitechapel Road.
She was just in time to see Gianapolis throw away the stump of his first
cigarette and stroll off, smoking a second. She rejoiced that she was
inconspicuously dressed, but, simple as was her attire, it did not fail
to attract coarse comment from some whom she jostled on her way. She
ignored all this, however, and, at a discreet distance followed the
Greek, never losing sight of him for more than a moment.
When, leaving Cambridge Road--a considerable thoroughfare--he plunged
into a turning, crooked and uninviting, which ran roughly at right
angles with the former, she hesitated, but only for an instant. Not
another pedestrian was visible in the street, which was very narrow and
ill-lighted, but she plainly saw Gianapolis passing under a street-lamp
some thirty yards along. Glancing back in quest of the cabman, but
failing to perceive him, she resumed the pursuit.
She was nearly come to the end of the street (Gianapolis already had
disappeared into an even narrower turning on the left) when a bright
light suddenly swept from behind and cast her shadow far out in front
of her upon the muddy road. She heard the faint thudding of a motor,
but did not look back, for she was confident that this was the taxi-man
following.
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