“Yes, Mr. Sagittarius.”
“Then she can’t have it. That’s all. Jellybrand’s must abide the full consequences of my betrayal. Go forward, Frederick Smith.”
The young librarian went forward towards a door of deal and ground glass which he threw open with some ceremony.
“The parlour, gents,” he said.
“After you, sir, after you,” said Malkiel the Second, making a side step and bringing his feet together in the first position.
“No, no,” rejoined the Prophet, gently drawing the sage to the front, and inserting him into the parlour in such an ingenious manner that he did not perceive the journey of a second half sovereign from the person of the Prophet to that of the young librarian, who thereafter closed the deal and ground glass door, and returned to the counter, whistling in an absent-minded manner, “I’m a Happy Millionaire from Colorado.”
CHAPTER III
THE TWO PROPHETS PARTAKE OF “CREAMING FOAM.”
“And now, sir,” said Malkiel the Second, pointing to a couple of cane chairs which, with the table, endeavoured, rather unsuccessfully, to furnish forth the parlour at Jellybrand’s, “now sir, what do you want with me?”