The cabman permitted the horse to do so and they again struggled funereally forward. The Prophet was still very pale.
“I suppose it is useless to—very well,” he said. “My life is double.”
“Ah!”
“But only lately, quite lately.”
“Never mind that. Oh! How glad I am that you have had the courage too! You will soon get into it, as I did. But you should have all your telegrams and so forth directed to Jellybrand’s.”
“It’s too late,” replied the Prophet, dejectedly. “Too late. I do wish that horse wouldn’t fall down so continually! It’s most monotonous.”
“The poor man naturally wants the extra sixpence. I think I shall give him a shilling. But now who is Mr. Sagittarius?”
“Who is he?”
“Yes. I’ve seen him several times at Jellybrand’s, and when I first met him I though he was an outside broker.”
“You! Was it on the pier at Margate?”