A Rolling Stone by B. M. Croker

Miss Tottie Toye's Renault was a beauty, and, after the old rickety green car, it afforded Wynyard a real pleasure to handle it. He took it for a trial turn to Bushey, in order to get accustomed to its mechanism -- for every motor has its peculiar little ways and its own little tempers -- and punctually at seven o'clock he was at Rockingham Mansions, awaiting his employer, the dancer.

Presently, heralded by her high, shrill voice, she appeared, accompanied by a melancholy young man, and bringing with her such a reek of scent, that it almost deadened the petrol. Tottie was wrapped in a magnificent pink velvet cloak trimmed with ermine, and, as she stepped into the car, turned to her companion and said --