"To think of it!" cried Angel. "I pictured you an old man in a wig—oh, ever so old!"
I explained to her that nowadays there is a growing disbelief in the monopoly of wisdom by the senile.
Presently I went round to my other chambers, and had waited less than a quarter of an hour, when Wicks drove up in triumph with two trunks on the top of a four-wheeler. I observed that he was still in a quiet simmer of joy, now of fell joy, and understood that there was, if not wailing, at any rate gnashing of teeth in Vauxhall.
I thanked him, told the cabman to drive into King's Bench Walk and got into the cab. As soon as the trunks were in the room, Angel went off joyfully to put on another gown, and at the end of half an hour appeared looking fresher and prettier than ever. Already in the reaction from her oppressed and terror-stricken condition during the past month, thanks to the restoring power of joyous youth, the traces of her privations and anxieties had almost faded from her face.
We decided that since it was a joy to her to drive in a hansom, economy compelled us to take one to the Savoy. We found Chelubai and Bottiger already seated at a table well placed for seeing people. Chelubai tossed a halfpenny paper to the floor as he rose to greet us, and when we
