“But I mean, don’t they whiff?”
“Whiff?”
He held his nose.
“I say, guv’nor.” shouted cabby to a fur-coated foreigner, “wot is it smells so?”
Meanwhile there was a certain “something lingering with oil in it,” permeating the fog, while a sound as of many humming-tops filled the air.
Then the cars moved on a bit, amid the cheers and chaff of a good-humoured crowd. Presently another stoppage and more shivering.
“’As thet cove there got th’ Vituss dance?” inquired the elated cabby, indicating a gentleman who was wobbling like a piece of jelly.
“That’s the vibration,” explained another.
“’Ow does the vibration agree w’ the old six yer ’ad last night?” cabby inquired immediately. “I say, Chawlie, don’t it make yer sea-sick? Oh my! th’ smell!” and he gasped and sat on his box, looking bilious.