Everything was done as my wife had planned. The two detachments reached
their destination almost simultaneously. My wife, with the northern
wing, was encamped in Bishop's Road, Westbourne Grove and Pickering
Place. My mother, with the southern wing (my wife shrewdly kept the
command in the family), filled Queen's Road from Whiteley's to Moscow
Road. My mother, who has exquisite taste in armour, had donned a superb
Cinque-Cento cuirass, a short Zouave jacket embroidered with sequins,
accordion-pleated bloomers, luminous leggings, brown Botticelli boots
and one tiger-skin spat.

Between the two hosts was the empty road before the Universal Provider's
Emporium. The Wenuses were within the building. By the time my wife's
warriors were settled and had completed the renovation of their toilets
it was high noon.

My wife had never imagined that any delay would occur: she had expected
to engage with the enemy at once and have done with it, and consequently
brought no provisions and no protection from the sun, which poured down
a great bulk of pitiless beams.

The absence of Wenuses and of any sound betokening their activity was
disconcerting. However, my wife thought it best to lay siege to
Whiteley's rather than to enter the establishment.

The army therefore waited.

The heat became intense. My wife and her soldiers began to feel the
necessity for refreshment. My wife is accustomed to regular meals. The
sun grew in strength as the time went on, and my wife gave the order to