Prev | Current Page 114 | Next

Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

"
"How could you be certain?"
"How?"
"Yes."
"Well, how is one certain of anything?" said the Prophet, rather feebly.
"How are you certain that I'm Miss Minerva Partridge?"
"Because you told me so yourself, because I've seen you come into
Jellybrand's for your letters, because--"
"Haven't I seen Malkiel come into Jellybrand's for his?"
This unexpected retort threw the Prophet upon his beam ends. But he
remembered his oath even in that very awkward position.
"Does he go to Jellybrand's?" he exclaimed, with a wild attempt after
astonishment. "But he's a company--Sir Tiglath said so."
"And what did your eyes say yesterday?"
"I had a cold in my eyes yesterday," said the Prophet. "They were very
weak. They were--they were aching."
Lady Enid was silent for a moment. During that moment she was conferring
with her feminine instinct. What it said to her must be guessed by
the manner in which she once more entered into conversation with the
Prophet.
"Mr. Vivian," she said, with a complete change of demeanour to girlish
geniality and impulsiveness, "I'm going to confide in you. I'm going to
thrown myself upon your mercy."
The Prophet blinked with amazement, like a martyr who suddenly finds
himself snatched from the rack and laid upon a plush divan with a satin
cushion under his head.


Pages:
102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126