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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

Her gloves
were of white, her boots of black kid, the latter being furnished with
elastic sides, and over her left wrist she carried a plush reticule,
whose mouth was kept shut by a tightly-drawn scarlet riband. On the left
side of her pelisse reposed a round bouquet of violets about the size of
a Rugby football.
"I thought you might like to have some tea," began the Prophet, in his
most soothing manner, while Mr. Ferdinand, with pursed lips, softly
arranged that beverage upon the seat which Mr. Sagittarius--so we must
call him--had just vacated.
"Thank you," said Madame Sagittarius, with dignity. "It would be
acceptable. The long journey from the banks of the Mouse to these
central districts is not without its fatigue. A beautiful equipage!"
"You said--"
"You have a very fine equipage."
"You have seen the brougham?" said the Prophet, in some surprise.
"What broom?" buzzed Madame Sagittarius.
"I thought you were admiring--"
"The tea equipage."
"Oh, yes, to be sure. Queen Anne silver, yes."
"A great woman!" said Madame Sagittarius, spreading a silk handkerchief
that exactly matched the ostrich tips in her bonnet carefully over
her velvet lap.


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