"I did," he said firmly, even obstinately. "And I discovered--I say
discovered that she was going to have an accident while on an evening
expedition--or jaunt as you might perhaps prefer to call it."
"I should certainly call it so--in the case of a lady who was an
honoured grandmother," said Malkiel the Second in assent.
"Well, Malkiel the Second," continued the Prophet, recovering his
composure as he approached his _coup_, "my grandmother did have an
accident, as I foretold."
"Did she have it in the square, sir?" asked Malkiel.
"And what if she did?" cried the Prophet with considerable testiness.
He was beginning to conceive a perfect hatred of the admirable
neighbourhood, which he had loved so well.
"I merely ask for information, sir."
"The accident did take place in the square certainly, and on the very
night for which I predicted it."
Malkiel the Second looked very thoughtful, even morose. He poured out
another glass of champagne, drank it slowly in sips, and when the glass
was empty ran the forefinger of his right hand slowly round and round
its edge.
"Can Madame be wrong?" he ejaculated at length, in a muffled voice of
meditation.
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