“Especially as Madame says, any illnesses taking the form of a rash—the epidemic form, as I may say—and so forth. We are to receive this document by the first post Thursday morning.”
“Have you dotted all that down, Mr. Vivian?” inquired Madame.
The Prophet hastily made a large variety of scratches with the lead pencil.
“And now,” continued Mr. Sagittarius.
There was a third tap at the door.
“Come in,” cried the Prophet, distractedly, and feeling as if homicidal mania were rapidly creeping upon him.
Mr. Ferdinand appeared once more, with a mouth like a purse.
“Her ladyship says she really must go in a moment, sir, and—and Mrs. Merillia begs that—”
“I am coming at once, Mr. Ferdinand. I swear it. Go upstairs and swear I swear it.”
“Yes, sir.”