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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

As he got up from the dining table
to go upstairs he said to Mr. Ferdinand,--
"By the way, Mr. Ferdinand, if I should come into the pantry again
to-night, don't be alarmed. I may chance to require a bradawl as I did
last night. Kindly leave one out, in case I should. But you need not sit
up."
As the Prophet said the last words he looked Mr. Ferdinand full in the
face. The butler's eyes fell.
"Thank you, Master Hennessey, I shall be glad to get to bed--entirely to
bed--in good time. We are all a bit upset in the kit--that is the hall
to-day."
"Just so. Retire to rest at once if you like."
"Thank you, sir."
"Gustavus," said Mr. Ferdinand, a moment later in the servants' hall,
"you are a man of the world, I believe."
Gustavus roused himself on his what-not.
"I am, Mr. Ferdinand," he replied, in a pale and exhausted manner.
"Then tell me, Gustavus, have you ever lived in service with a gentleman
who was partial to a bradawl--of a night, you understand?"
"No, never, Mr. Ferdinand. The nearest to it ever I got was the Bishop
of Clapham."
"Explain yourself, Gustavus, I beg."
"He used to ask for a nip sometimes before retiring, Mr.


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