"I
cannot possibly consent--"
"Yes, dear Mr. Vivian, you can. And if two thoroughly silly people can't
impose upon one sensible old man, it will be very strange indeed. And
now I'm going to tell you what I hadn't time to tell you yesterday."
She leaned forward and tapped sharply on the rattling glass in front of
the cab. The cabman, bending down, twisted his whiskers towards her.
"Don't go too fast."
"I can't get 'im to fall down agyne, lydy. 'E's too tired."
"I daresay. But don't let him walk quite so fast."
She drew back.
"Mr. Vivian," she said--and the Prophet thought she had never looked
more sensible than now, as she began this revelation--"Mr. Vivian, among
the silly people I have met in my dear double life, who do you think are
the very silliest?"
"The anti-vaccinators?"
"No. Besides, they so often have small-pox and become quite sensible."
"The atheists?"
"I used to think so, but not now. And most of those I knew are Roman
Catholics at present."
"The women who don't desire to be slaves?"
"There aren't any."
"The tearers of Paderewski's hair?"
"I so seldom meet them, because they all live out in the suburbs.
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