“Of course,” she exclaimed. “Of course. You are to be kind enough to introduce me some day to Mr. Sagi—Sagi—something or other, and I am to introduce him to Sir Tiglath Butt, when Sir Tiglath Butt has been introduced to me by dear Miss Partridge. It is all to work out beautifully. Yes, yes! Charming! charming!”
“I have ventured to bring Mr. and Madame Sagittarius with me to-night,” said the Prophet.
Mrs. Bridgeman started and smiled.
“They are my old and valued friends, and—and here they are.”
“Delighted! delighted!” said Mrs. Bridgeman, speaking in a confused manner through the guitars. “How d’you do, Mr. Sagittarius?”
And she shook hands warmly with a very small and saturnine clergyman decorated with a shock of ebon hair, who was passing at the moment.
“Biggle!” said the little clergyman.
Mrs. Bridgeman started and smiled.
“Biggle!” repeated the little clergyman. “Biggle!”
The guitars rose up with violence, and all the hot, drubbing passion of Bayswater being Spanish.