re more than
satisfactory. A malignant Fate, however----" When I asked him if he was
coming he told the man I was taunting him, so I just drove home. The
Willoughbys brought him back in their car quarter of an hour later.
Madge said she'd never laughed so much in her life, but I can't bear it
alone. Mrs. Mason is at last reconciled to the idea of an electric
cooker, and your new curtains look sweet. Come along. Love to you all._

_DAPHNE._

"Berry's version should be engaging," said Jonah. "Slip along with that
porridge."

"Don't hustle me. Gladstone used to masticate every mouthful he took
seven million times before swallowing. That's why he couldn't tell a
lie. Or am I thinking of Lincoln?"

The hostility with which my cousins received the historical allusion was
so marked that it seemed only prudent to open my brother-in-law's letter
without further delay.

I did so and read the contents aloud.

_DEAR BROTHER,_

_Your constant derision of human suffering has satisfied me that the
facts I am about to relate will afford you the utmost gratification.
Natheless I consider that for form's sake my wife's brother should know
that I am in failing health. This morning, whilst faring forth, as is my
wont (pronounced "wunt"), upon a mission of charity, I was seized with
an agony in the neck and Old Bond Street just opposite the
drinking-fountain. Believing it to be appendicitis, I demanded a
chirurgeon, but nobody could spell the word. The slightest movement,
however, spelt anguish without a mistake. My scruff was in the grip of
Torment. Observing that I was helpless, the woman, my wife, summoned a
hackney carriage and drove off, taunting and jeering at her spouse. By
this time my screams had attracted the attention of a few passers-by.
Some stood apparently egg-bound, others hurried away, doubtless to
procure assistance. One fool asked me if I was ill. I told him that I
had been dead for some days, and asked him if he knew of a good florist,
as I wanted them to send no flowers. Had it not been for Madge
Willoughby, I should have been there now._

_Organized bodies of navvies are slowly but surely ruining the streets.
No efforts are made to stop them, and the police seem powerless to
interfere._

_There is no room in London. I never remember when there was. But don't
you come. The air is the purer for your absence, and your silk hats seem
to fit me better than my own. My love for Jill is only exceeded by my
hatred