Mr. Prohack by Arnold Bennett
page 183 of 489 (37%)
page 183 of 489 (37%)
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"I've never been in an accident in my life," Mr. Prohack objected.
"If you had, you'd sympathise with me." At this moment the Eagle drew up at the desired destination in Conduit Street. Mr. Prohack looked at his watch. "I'm sorry to seem inhospitable," he said, "but my appointment is extremely important. I cannot wait." "Can _I_ wait?" Miss Winstock suggested. "I'm quite used to waiting for Mr. Carrel Quire. If I might wait in the car till you came out.... You see I want to come to an understanding." "I don't know how long I shall be." "That doesn't matter, truly. I haven't got anything else in the world to do, as Mr. Carrel Quire is away." Mr. Prohack left Miss Winstock in the car. The establishment into which Mr. Prohack disappeared was that of his son's tailors. He slipped into it with awe, not wholly because the tailors were his son's tailors, but in part because they were tailors to various august or once-august personages throughout Europe. Till that day Mr. Prohack had bought his clothes from an insignificant though traditional tailor in Maddox Street, to whom he had been taken as a boy by his own father. And he had ordered his clothes hastily, negligently, anyhow, in intervals snatched from meal-hours or on the way from one more important appointment to another more important appointment. Indeed |
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