His Honour lolled back in his chair, smiling. Evidently he thought somebody a fool, but Arthur could not be sure whether it was himself or Mr. Tiddes. But he did not much care. He had warmed to his work, he had forgotten his fears. He could not bear that Mr. Tiddes should defeat him; it had become a battle between them. Once or twice Mr. Tiddes had winced, as over that 'split'—an arrow in the joints of his harness! He was less jaunty, less facetious.
At last they got to the accident. Here Mr. Tiddes was very firm. He made no concessions; he walked (so he maintained) from his place in a perfectly quiet, sober, and business-like manner, and in like manner was about to descend from the 'bus when—on it moved and he was jerked violently off! If the conductor said anything to the contrary—well, the conductor was not looking at the critical moment; he was collecting somebody's fare.
"You didn't even look back at the young lady over your shoulder?"
"I did not, sir." Mr. Tiddes too was, by now, rather angry.
"Didn't kiss your hand or anything of that sort?"
"Nothing of the kind, sir."
"In fact you were attending entirely to what you were doing?"
"I was."
"Don't you think, then, that it's rather odd that you should have been jerked off?"
"The 'bus moved suddenly, and that jerked me off."