Wales, with the front of my eyes, the small flat drawer that had, it seemed, quite a number of sovereigns scattered over its floor. "They're so unreasonable," claimed Miss Ramell. Who could be otherwise in a social organisation that bordered upon insanity?
I turned away from them, put my foot on the fender, stuck my elbow on the plush-fringed mantel-board, and studied the photographs, pipes, and ashtrays that adorned it. What was it I had to think out before I went to the station?
Of course! My mind made a queer little reluctant leap--it felt like being forced to leap over a bottomless chasm--and alighted upon the sovereigns that were just disappearing again as Mr. Gabbitas shut his drawer.
"I won't interrupt your talk further," said Miss Ramell, receding doorward.
Mr. Gabbitas played round her politely, and opened the door for her and conducted her into the passage, and for a moment or so I had the fullest sense of proximity to those--it seemed to me there must be ten or twelve--sovereigns. . . .
The front door closed and he returned. My chance of escape had gone.
4
