“The River Mouse,” rejoined Malkiel in a muffled voice, and shaking his head sadly.
“Exactly—on the River Mouse at Crompton—”
“Crampton.”
“Crampton St. Peter total—”
“N.!”
“What?”
“Crampton St. Peter. N. That is the point.”
“Very well—Crampton St. Peteren, totally and entirely unnecessary?”
“You desire my revelation, sir? You desire to enter into the bosom of a family that hitherto has dwelt apart, has lain as I may say perdew beside the secret waters of the River Mouse? Is it indeed so?”
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” cried the Prophet, hastily. “I would not for the world intrude upon—”