And there's such a lot of them like that. I
swear," he went on, beginning to go purple again--"I swear that, if I
had had a revolver just now, I should have shot him. When one man hails
another, the man who is hailed must give some kind of an indication.
It's only human. Society would fall to pieces if we all behaved like
that chap. It's awful, awful! If I'd only thought of taking his number
I'd run him in, and I'd carry it to the House of Lords if necessary.
Such men--ugh!"
He broke down, smothered by righteous anger.
"Good heavens!" he exclaimed as I was leaving, "if I'd only taken
his number!"
II.
The same night a miracle happened. It was very late, and the _debris_ of
a little charity performance at an assembly-room had to be cleared away.
The last guests had gone--in this or that conveyance, or on our best
friends in war-time, the feet--and that hunt for a taxi, which has now
taken the place of all other sport, was being prosecuted with more or
less energy by a policeman, a loafer and two or three amateurs, all of
whom returned at intervals while the packing-up was in progress, to say
how hopeless the case was and how independent the men had become.
One passing cab I hailed myself, but he did no more than laugh a loud
laugh of mere incivility and ironically remark, "Ter-morrer!"
signifying, as I understood it, that nothing on earth should interfere
with his homeward journey that night, since he had done enough and was
tired, but that on the succeeding day, if I still required his services,
he was at my disposal.
Pages:
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38