The various bags and parcels being now all ready, we waited patiently in
the hall, and from time to time received reports as to the progress of
the chase.
At last, when things seemed really hopeless, a taxi arrived, driven by a
young man in spectacles, which were, I am convinced, part of a disguise
covering one of the noblest personalities in the land--some Haroun al
Raschid, filled with pity for lost Londoners, who is devoting his life
to redressing the wrongs inflicted upon poor humanity by taxi
tyrants--for he said nothing about having no petrol, nothing about the
lateness of the hour, nothing about the direction in which we wished to
go, but quietly and efficiently helped to get the things in and on the
cab; and then drove swiftly away, and when we got to the other end
insisted on carrying some of the bundles up three flights of stairs, and
had no objection to make when asked to wait a little longer and go on
elsewhere.
All this time I was, I need hardly say, in a dream. Could it be
true? Could it?
And when he was at last paid off he said both "Good night" and "Thank
you," although it was I in whom gratitude should have thus vocally
burned. Perhaps it did; I was too dazed to remember.
How I wish I had taken his number, that all the world might know it and
look for it, assured of a gentleman on the box!
III.
So you see there are both kinds of taxi-drivers still--only the bad ones
are more difficult to get hold of.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
"SMART GIRL, THAT NEW GOVERNESS--GOT ME TO LOOK AT THE
TAPESTRY WHILE SHE PINCHED MY BREAD!"
* * * * *
Caveat Emptor.
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