Sagittarius, a quarter of an hour later. "Draw it in
at the back."
Mr. Sagittarius, with shaking hands, drew in the waistcoat of Mr.
Ferdinand, which hung in folds around his thin and agitated figure.
"That's better," said the Prophet. "They won't notice anything odd. But
you've turned up your--Mr. Ferdinand's trousers!"
"They're too long, sir. You braced them too low for--"
"I braced them low on purpose," cried the Prophet in great excitement,
"to cover the spats, since you can't get on Mr. Ferdinand's boots.
Kindly turn them down."
"As to the spats, sir, the architects and their wives--"
"Mr. Sagittarius," exclaimed the Prophet, "I think it right to inform
you that if you mention the architects and their wives again, I may very
probably go mad. I don't say I shall, but I will not answer for myself.
Have the goodness to turn them down and follow me."
Mr. Sagittarius obeyed, and followed the Prophet from the room with a
waddling gait and a terrible sensation of having nothing on. The coat
and trousers which he wore flapped about him as he descended the stairs
in the wake of the Prophet, glancing nervously about him and starting at
the slightest sound.
Pages:
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278