"Punctuality--"
"Exactly, but I was mixed up in a slight mishap to a carriage."
"As I was about to remark," said the M.P., in his most impressive
manner, "punctuality in business is a _sine qua non_. I have already
appointed another secretary."
"Poor devil!" said Dick.
"How dare you, sir, speak to me in that manner?"
"I was thinking of him. I don't know him, but, having seen you, I am
sorry for him."
"You impudent rascal--"
But Royson had fled. Out in the street, he looked up at the sky. "Is
there a new moon?" he asked himself, gravely. "Am I cracked? Why did I
pitch into that chap? If I'm not careful, I shall get myself into
trouble to-day. I wonder if Jack Seymour will lend me enough to take me
to South Africa? They say that war is brewing there. That is what I
want--gore, bomb-shells, more gore. If I stay in London--"
Then he encountered a procession coming up Northumberland Avenue.
Police, mounted and on foot, headed it. Behind marched the unemployed,
thousands of them.
"If I stay in London," he continued, quite seriously, "I shall pick out
a beefy policeman and fight him.
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