Vivian," said Madame, very sharply. "The cab
has not yet been made that will convey me to the Mouse to-night."
"But your husband--"
"My husband is a coward, unworthy of such a wife as he possesses. At the
crisis of our fortunes--What's that?"
At this painful moment Malkiel the Second was so overcome by emotion,
that he trembled, and allowed his left foot to rattle slightly on the
sugar basin.
"What was it?" repeated Madame.
"Rats, I have no doubt," answered the Prophet, who had heard nothing. "I
believe that the basements of these old houses are simply--well--simply
permeated with rats."
For a moment Madame blanched, but she was a woman of spirit, and
moreover she was almost intoxicated with ambition. Recognised at last as
a lady of position and importance in one of the mansions of the idiotic
great, she was more anxious than ever to remove forthwith into the
central districts, there to exercise that sway which she had so long
desired. Finding that there exists a world in which prophets--far from
being considered as dirty and deceitful persons--are worshipped and
adored, entertained with Pommery and treated almost as gods, she yearned
to dwell in the midst of it.
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