“In Kensington Square. Do you mind hailing a four-wheeler. We can talk privately there. No one will hear us.”
The Prophet hailed a growler, wondering whether they would be able to hear each other. As they got in Lady Enid, after giving the direction, said to the cabman, who was a short person, with curling ebon whiskers, a broken-up expression and a broken-down manner:
“Drive slowly, please and I’ll give you an extra six-pence.”
“Lydy?”
“Drive slowly, and I’ll give you another six-pence.”
“How did yer think I was gawing to drive, lydy?”
“I wonder why cabmen are always so interested in one’s inmost thoughts,” said Lady Enid, as the horse fell down preparatory to starting.
“I wonder.”
“I hope he will go slowly.”
“He seems to be doing so.”