At this point the horse, after knocking on the front of the cab with his hind feet ten or a dozen times, got up, hung his head, and drew a large number of deep and dejected breaths.
“Am I gawing slowly enough, lydy?” asked the cabman, anxiously.
“Yes, but you can let him trot along now.”
“Right, lydy, I ain’t preventing of him.”
As eventually they scrambled slowly forward in the Kensington direction, Lady Enid remarked,—
“Why don’t you have them sent to Jellybrand’s?”
“Have what?” asked the Prophet.
“Your telegrams. The messages from your double life. I do.”
“But I assure you—”
“Mr. Vivian, it’s useless really. I find you hidden away in the inner room of Jellybrand’s with Mr. Sagittarius, closely guarded by Frederick Smith; fourpenny champagne—”