"
_Cook_. "THAT WAS SO, MUM; BUT MR. WILLOUGHBY LET ME SLIP THROUGH HIS
FINGERS."]
* * * * *
THE CABMAN AND THE COIN.
"We must wait a minute or two for Sir Charles," said our hostess. "Everyone
else is here," and she beamed around the room.
The various _mauvais quart d'heure_ dialogues that this speech had
interrupted were resumed, most of them switching on to the question of
punctuality. And then a cab was heard to stop outside and after a minute or
so, presumably spent in financial transactions, the bell rang and the
knocker knocked.
"That's Sir Charles," said our hostess; "there he is;" and a few moments
later the guest we all awaited so fervently was in the room, full of
apologies.
"Never mind why you're late," said our hostess, "I'm sure you couldn't help
it. Now we'll eat," and once again a dozen Londoners fell into ark-
approaching formation and moved towards repletion.
The party was familiar enough, after certain solvents of speech had been
applied, for conversation to become general; and during the _entree_ we
were all listening to Sir Charles telling the famous story of the eminent
numismatist who, visiting the British Museum, was taken for a thief. By way
of making the narration the more vivid he felt in his pocket for a coin
with which to illustrate the dramatic crisis, when his expression became
suddenly alarmed and fixed.
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