"There was no date. She never wore a short-coat."
"Do you desire me to believe, Mr. Vivian, that the old lady has been
going about in long clothes ever since she was born?" inquired Madame,
with incredulous sarcasm.
"Most certainly I do," replied the Prophet.
"Then how does she get along, pray? Come! Come!"
"She has always worn long clothes," cried the Prophet, boldly standing
up for his beloved relative, "and always will. You can take that from
me, Madame Sagittarius. I know my grandmother, and I am ready to pledge
my honour to it."
"Oh, very well. She must be a very remarkable lady. That's all I can
say. When did she put her hair up?"
"Never. She has never put it up."
"She has never put her hair up!"
"No, never."
"You mean to say that your grandmother goes about in long clothes
with her hair down in the central districts?" cried Madame in blank
amazement.
"She has never put her hair up," answered the Prophet, with almost
obstinate determination.
"Oh, well--if she prefers! But I wonder what the police are about!"
retorted Madame. "And now the rashes?"
"There are none."
But at this Madame's temper--already somewhat upset by her prolonged
communion with the mighty dead--showed symptoms of giving way
altogether.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251