“Ah!” said Mr. Sagittarius, keeping a wary eye on Sir Tiglath and re-addressing himself to Mrs. Merillia, “the Berkeley Square. But if you lived in the one behind Kimmins’s Mews, it would be quite another pair of boots, would it not, ma’am?”
Lady Julia, who was sitting next to Mr. Sagittarius, shifted her chair nearer to the Prophet, and whispered, “I’m sure he is dangerous, Mr. Vivian!” while Mrs. Merillia, in the greatest perplexity, replied,—
“The one behind Mr. Kimmins’s Mews?”
“Ay, over against Brigwell’s Buildings, just beyond the Pauper Lunatic Asylum.”
Lady Julia turned pale.
“I daresay,” answered Mrs. Merillia, bravely. “But I am not acquainted with the neighbourhood you mention.”
“You know the Mouse?”
At this abrupt return to the subject of mice Lady Julia became really terrified.
“Be frank with me, Mr. Vivian,” she whispered to the Prophet, under cover of boiled salmon; “is he a ratcatcher?”
“Good Heavens, no!” whispered back the Prophet. “He’s—he’s quite the contrary.”