The supply of physicians willing to pay for an option on a London practice seemed inexhaustible and in a few weeks my friend must easily have cleared $20,000. But she began to tire of Nice and invited me to accompany her to London.
When we reached there we went to Claridge's, in Mayfair, and took one of the finest suites in that exclusive hotel. The morning after our arrival she suggested a shopping expedition.
To my amazement there stood at the hotel door waiting for us a splendid carriage drawn by a prancing pair of horses in heavy silver-plated harness.
On the doors of the carriage was emblazoned a brilliant coat of arms. On the box sat a pompous coachman in livery. A liveried footman stood at attention ready to assist us.
THERE STOOD A SPLENDID CARRIAGE DRAWN BY A PAIR OF PRANCING HORSES
I had hard work to believe it wasn't all a dream as I settled back against the soft silken cushions and heard my friend order us driven to Bond street.
We stopped in front of a famous jewelry store—I made ready to alight, but that, it seems, was not the plan. Instead, her ladyship whispered a message to the footman and he went into the store.
Out came the proprietor, a dignified old Englishman. At sight of this splendid equipage with its crests on the door and the two fine ladies inside, he was all bows and smiles.