"This way, Madame," said the Prophet. "But I really think such a
proceeding is calculated to cause a grave scandal in the square."
Malkiel the Second drew the cupboard door to, and grasped a silver
candelabrum in each hand to sustain himself upon the rather sharp rim of
the loving-cup.
"What is the square to me or I to the square?" returned Madame with
ungrammatical majesty. "Madame Malkiel is not governed by any ordinary
laws. _Lexes non scripta_ is her motto. To these alone she clings."
Her husband clung to the candelabra and burst into a violent
perspiration. Through the keyhole of the cupboard a ray of light now
shone, and he heard the frou-frou of his partner's skirt, the flump
of the rabbit-skins as she cast them from her ample shoulders upon the
floor. The Prophet's voice became audible again.
"What do you wish me to do?" he said, with a sort of embittered
courtesy.
"Throw open the window, place yourself before the telescope, and proceed
at once to your investigations," replied the lady.
"I am not in a condition to investigate," said the Prophet. "I am not
indeed. If you will only let me get you a cab, to-morrow night--"
"It is useless to talk, Mr.
Pages:
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367