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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

His brick-red face glistened in the light of the lamp that stood
beside him. His moist red lips shone, and he seemed totally unaware that
there was anyone in the chamber endeavouring to gain his attention.
"In these circumstances, Sir Tiglath," Lady Enid went on, with pleasant
ease, and a sort of homespun self-possession that trumpeted, like a
military band, her sensibleness, "Mr. Vivian consulted me as to what to
do; whether to give the whole thing up, or to make an appeal to you at
the risk of disturbing you and taking up a little of your precious time.
When he had explained the affair to me, however, I at once felt certain
that you would wish to know of it. Didn't I, Mr. Vivian? Didn't I say,
only this afternoon, that we must at once take a four-wheeler to Sir
Tiglath's?"
"Yes, you did," said the Prophet, in a muffled voice.
"For I knew that no investigation, no serious, reverent investigation
into heavenly, that is starry, conditions could be indifferent to you,
Sir Tiglath."
The astronomer, who had been in the act of lifting the last morsel
of the muffin to his mouth, put it down again, and Lady Enid, thus
vehemently encouraged, went on more rapidly.


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