"No hurry, my boy! The night is young! 'And'"
--he broke into lyric quotation--"'haply the Queen Moon is on her
throne, clustered around with all her starry fays.'--I shall never
forget this dinner; shall you, Biddy? We'll have a song when we get
home."
One little matter had to be attended to, the paying of the bill.
Having glanced carelessly at the total, Alexander began to search
his pockets.
"Why, hang it!" he exclaimed. "What a fellow I am! Piers, it's
really too absurd, but I shall have to ask you to lend me a
sovereign; I can't make up enough--stupid carelessness! Biddy, why
didn't you ask me if I'd got money?--No, no; just a sovereign,
Piers; I have the rest. I'll pay you back to-morrow morning."
With laughter at such a capital joke, Piers disbursed the coin.
Quaint, comical fellow, this brother of his I He liked him, and was
beginning to like Biddy too.
A cab bore them all to Queen's Gate, Alexander and his wife making
the journey just for the fun of the thing. Piers would have paid for
the vehicle back to Theobald's Road, but this his brother declined;
he and Mrs. Otway preferred the top of a 'bus this warm night. They
parted at Mr. Jacks' door, where carriages and cabs were stopping
every minute or two.
"I'll sit up for you, Piers," roared Alexander genially. "You'll
want a whisky-and-soda after this job. Come along, Biddy!"
In another frame of mind, Piers would have felt the impropriety of
these loud remarks at such a moment.
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