Page:A Damsel in Distress.pdf/47

 cavalcade made good time. The cab was still stationary when they arrived in a body.

“Here he is, guv’nor,” said the messenger boy, removing a bead of perspiration with the rush message.

“Here he is, guv’nor,” said the nonsmoking Bohemian. “What ho!”

“Here I am!” agreed George affably. “And what can I do for you?”

The smoker spat appreciatively at a passing dog. The point seemed to him well taken. Not for many a day had he so enjoyed himself. In an arid world containing too few goes of gin and too many policemen, a world in which the poor were oppressed and could seldom enjoy even a quiet cigar without having their fingers trodden upon, he found himself for the moment contented, happy and expectant. This looked like a row between toffs, and of all things which most intrigued him a row between toffs ranked highest.

“R!” he said approvingly. “Now you're torkin’!”

The shopgirl had espied an acquaintance in the crowd. She gave tongue.

“Mordee! Cummere! Cummere quick! Sumfin’ hap’nin’.”

Maudie, accompanied by perhaps a dozen more of London’s millions, added herself to the audience. These all belonged to the class which will gather round and watch silently while a motorist mends a tire. They are not impatient. They do not call for rapid and continuous action. A mere hole in the ground, which of all sights is perhaps the least vivid and dramatic, is enough to grip their attention for hours at a time. They stared at George and George’s cab with unblinking gaze. They did not know what would happen or