Bridgeman and I are--"
"Enough!" cried Madame. "_Jam satus_! Be sure that I will inquire into
this matter."
The carriage door was opened and, with some struggling, the Prophet and
his two valued friends emerged and speedily found themselves in a very
large hall, which was nearly full of very large powdered footmen. In
the distance there was the sound of united frivolities, a band of twenty
guitars thrumming a wilful _seguidilla_. Roses bloomed on every side,
and beyond the hall they beheld a vision of illuminated vistas, down
which vague figures came and went.
Evidently when Mrs. Bridgeman let herself go she let herself go
thoroughly.
Mr. Sagittarius gazed about him with awe-struck amazement, but Madame
was equal to the occasion. She cast the rabbit-skins imperially to a
neighbouring flunkey, arranged her hair and fichu before a glass, kicked
out her skirt with the heel of one of the kid boots, nipped the green
chiffon into prominence with decisive fingers, and then, turning to the
Prophet with all the majesty of a suburban empress, said in a powerful
voice,--
"Step forward, I beg. _J'ai pret_."
The Prophet, thus encouraged, stepped forward towards an aperture
that on ordinary days contained a door, but that now contained a stout
elderly lady, with henna-dyed hair, a powdered face, black eyebrows and
a yellow gown, on which rested a large number of jewelled ornaments that
looked like small bombs.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303