Boss was almost in despair when his prey turned into the Burlington Arcade. There the fates were still unpropitious, until Boss, looking about him, saw a young lady who nodded to him pleasantly. She was a young lady very loudly dressed, and her cheeks were suggestive of artistic treatment.
Boss crossed the arcade and spoke to her quietly.
‘I’m on a good lay, Liz,’ he said. ‘You can stand in a couple of quid if you like, if it comes off. No danger.’
‘No danger? Honour bright?’ said the girl.
‘Not a blessed haporth. I only want you to have a fit. Do you tumble?’
‘Right,’ said the young lady. ‘When?’
‘Walk in front of that gentleman,’ said Boss, pointing out Mr. Limpet, junior, ‘and when you hear me sneeze drop.’
The young lady strolled quickly away, and presently she was in front of Mr. Limpet, and Boss was behind him, the people in the arcade passing to and fro and sometimes crossing between them.
Suddenly Mr. Knivett had a bad cold and sneezed violently. At the same moment the young lady uttered a piercing shriek, and went down in a heap on the ground, kicking and struggling furiously.
A crowd came about in a minute, and Mr. Limpet was in the thick of it. Mr. Knivett was squeezed up close behind Mr. Limpet. Old ladies said, ‘Poor creature!’ Young ladies looked at the painted face and turned away. Old gentlemen and young gentlemen crowded round and loosened Liz’s bonnet-strings, patted her hands, and wondered what they ought to do.