The Prophet of Berkeley Square by Robert Smythe Hichens
page 51 of 390 (13%)
page 51 of 390 (13%)
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"I have not the pleasure to have ever observed my guides from the neighbourhood of the Butts," said Malkiel, serenely. "But pray proceed, sir. I am all attention. You cast your honoured grandmother's horoscope--in the Berkeley Square." The Prophet seized his glass, but some remnants of his tattered self-control still clung to him, and he put it down without seeking further madness from its contents. "I did," he said firmly, even obstinately. "And I discovered--I say discovered that she was going to have an accident while on an evening expedition--or jaunt as you might perhaps prefer to call it." "I should certainly call it so--in the case of a lady who was an honoured grandmother," said Malkiel the Second in assent. "Well, Malkiel the Second," continued the Prophet, recovering his composure as he approached his _coup_, "my grandmother did have an accident, as I foretold." "Did she have it in the square, sir?" asked Malkiel. "And what if she did?" cried the Prophet with considerable testiness. He was beginning to conceive a perfect hatred of the admirable neighbourhood, which he had loved so well. "I merely ask for information, sir." |
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