"I call a man who's afraid even when he's passing everywhere as an American syndicate a cowardly custard," rejoined Madame, who appeared to be suffering under that peculiar form of flushed irritability which is apt to follow on heavy thought, indulged in to excess in a recumbent position during the daytime. "There, that's settled. So now let us get to business. Kindly hand me your prophecy of last night, Mr. Vivian."
The Prophet drew from a breast pocket a sheet or two of notepaper, on which he had dotted down, in prophetic form, the events of the night before. Madame received it and continued,--
"Before perusing this report, Mr. Vivian, I should wish to be made acquainted with those particulars."
"Let us take them in order, please, and proceed _parri passo_. When was the old lady removed from the bottle?"
"Never," replied the Prophet, firmly. "Never."
An expression of incredulous amazement decorated the obstreperous features of Madame.
"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Vivian, that she sucks it still?" she inquired.
"I mean what I say, that she has never been removed from it," returned the Prophet, with energy.
"Well, sir, she must be very partial to milk and Indian rubber, very partial indeed!" said Mr. Sagittarius. "Go on, my darling."
"Her first tooth, Mr. Vivian--when did she cut it?"
"There was no date. She never wore a short-coat."
"Do you desire me to believe, Mr. Vivian, that the old lady has been going about in long clothes ever since she was born?" inquired Madame, with incredulous sarcasm.
"Most certainly I do," replied the Prophet.
"Then how does she get along, pray? Come! Come!"
"She has always worn long clothes," cried the Prophet, boldly standing up for his beloved relative, "and always will. You can take that from me, Madame Sagittarius. I know my grandmother, and I am ready to pledge my honour to it."
"Oh, very well. She must be a very remarkable lady. That's all I can say. When did she put her hair up?"
"You mean to say that your grandmother goes about in long clothes with her hair down in the central districts?" cried Madame in blank amazement.
"She has never put her hair up," answered the Prophet, with almost obstinate determination.
"Oh, well--if she prefers! But I wonder what the police are about!" retorted Madame. "And now the rashes?"