To-morrow morning I shall report for duty.
VI
September 5th, 1929
I came up from Bristol to-day.
Just as the train was starting, the door of my carriage was opened, and a woman was hoisted in.
She stuck a glass in her eye and waved to her breathless squire.
“So long, Nosey,” she said. “ ’Fraid I’m out of bananas, but here’s an onion’s heart.”
She blew him a kiss and flung herself back in her seat.
I knew her at once: and I began to wonder if she’ld remember me. She did. After a little reflection she opened her mouth.
“Didn’t I meet you,” she said, “at the Meurices’?”
“That’s right,” said I. “You told my fortune from my hand.”