"
"Your pardon," I exclaimed, and in my efforts to be accommodating,
dropped it on his toe. I will not repeat the remark he made, but I may
explain that he was gouty. His son suddenly became afflicted with a
sense of the absurdity of the situation. He kicked me on the shin, he
even dared to wink, and then began to swell visibly with suppressed
laughter. I was in agony, for if he had exploded I do not know what
would have happened. Fortunately, at this moment the carriage stopped
at the door of a fine office. Without waiting for the footman Mr.
Stephen bundled out and vanished into the building--I suppose to laugh
in safety. Then I descended with the tin case; then, by command,
followed Woodden with the flower, and lastly came Sir Alexander.
"Stop here," he said to the coachman; "I shan't be long. Be so good as
to follow me, Mr. What's-your-name, and you, too, Gardener."
We followed, and found ourselves in a big room luxuriously furnished
in a heavy kind of way. Sir Alexander Somers, I should explain, was an
enormously opulent bullion-broker, whatever a bullion-broker may be.
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