“Where in deauce shall we start?” said Mr. Withersq when they got round the corner. “We might suitably have a taxi to start off with.”
“Indeed yes,” simpered Selia as to the manner born, with a good pull at her garters, at which the perfunctery Mr. Withersq ran into the road and he soon found a fresh-looking taxi. The driver was rather a kindly man with frizzled beard.
“Now my man, drive us about through some smart places,” said our hero, blowing in his cheeks and breathing, but he really felt rather little because of not yet knowing his way about the town.
“How would you care for an airing around [8] ]Kensington, for that is a good part my lord,” said the taxi man.
Mr. Withersq replied “Certenly, certenly, my good man,” and with a wink of glee at each other he and his dear wench Selia popped into the motor.
“What a whiz,” yelled Mr. Withersq as they poured through the streets.
When they arrived in Kensington, Mr. Withersq tossed the man some money in silver very lordly, so he drove off highly gratifyed.
They had a look round.
“This is a bit slow,” said Selia, “I dont think this is hardly society. Where we live is very like, only less dogs and the prams not so sparkly.” For on every side beneath the trees spanking nurses trundled smart prams tidily followed by neatly brushed dogs. It was indeed smart, but of rather a nursery sort, and not what our pair were out after.
[9] ]“Indeed things are a bit slow in Kensington,” replyed Mr. Withersq. “I tell you what,” he went on, “we might go to a party.”