"
The Prophet gasped. Sir Tiglath took a bit out of the muffin and
returned to his tracing and measuring.
"On that occasion you may remember," Lady Enid went on with increasing
vivacity and assurance, "you declined to speak. This naturally damped
Mr. Vivian--who is very sensitive, though you might not think it"--here
she cast a glance at the instruments on which the Prophet sat--"and his
friend. So much so, in fact, that unless I had undertaken to act for
them I daresay they would have let the matter drop. Wouldn't you, Mr.
Vivian?" she added swiftly to the Prophet.
"Certainly," he answered, like a creature in a dream. "Certainly."
"More especially as the friend, Mrs. Vane Bridgeman"--the Prophet at
this point made an inarticulate, but very audible, noise that might have
meant anything, and that did in fact mean "Merciful Heavens! what
will become of me?"--"Mrs. Vane Bridgeman is also of a very retiring
disposition and would hate to put such a man as you are to the slightest
inconvenience."
Sir Tiglath took another bite at the muffin, which seemed to be getting
the worst of the _tete-a-tete_, rummaged among the mess of things that
loaded his table till he found a gigantic book, opened it, and began to
compare some measurements in it with those he had made on the foolscap
paper.
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