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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

"
"Lydy?"
"Drive slowly, and I'll give you another six-pence."
"How did yer think I was gawing to drive, lydy?"
"I wonder why cabmen are always so interested in one's inmost thoughts,"
said Lady Enid, as the horse fell down preparatory to starting.
"I wonder."
"I hope he will go slowly."
"He seems to be doing so."
At this point the horse, after knocking on the front of the cab with his
hind feet ten or a dozen times, got up, hung his head, and drew a large
number of deep and dejected breaths.
"Am I gawing slowly enough, lydy?" asked the cabman, anxiously.
"Yes, but you can let him trot along now."
"Right, lydy, I ain't preventing of him."
As eventually they scrambled slowly forward in the Kensington direction,
Lady Enid remarked,--
"Why don't you have them sent to Jellybrand's?"
"Have what?" asked the Prophet.
"Your telegrams. The messages from your double life. I do."
"But I assure you--"
"Mr. Vivian, it's useless really. I find you hidden away in the inner
room of Jellybrand's with Mr. Sagittarius, closely guarded by Frederick
Smith; fourpenny champagne--"
"Four bob--shilling, I mean."
"Oh, was it?--Upon the table.


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