The Prophet of Berkeley Square

by Robert Hichens

“What—no.”

Gustavus glided in a well-trained manner towards the door. When he got there the Prophet cried, rather sharply,—

“Stop a moment!”

Gustavus stopped.

“Sir?”

“The—I—er—I am expecting a—a—couple this afternoon,” began the Prophet, speaking with considerable hesitation, and still gazing, in a hypnotised manner, at the telegram.

“A couple, sir?”

“Exactly. A pair.”

“A pair, sir? Of horses, sir?”

“Horses! No—of people, that is, persons.”