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datatime: 2022-10-04 20:31:11 Author:kPNqZbct

And what, he inquired suavely, leaning a little further out of the cab, "is eating you, Bill?"

A sceptic made a cynical suggestion.

Wot is it? 'Naccident?

Mordee Cummere quick Maudie, accompanied by perhaps a dozen more of London's millions, added herself to the audience. These all belonged to the class which will gather round and watch silently while a motorist mends a tyre. They are not impatient. They do not call for rapid and continuous action. A mere hole in the ground, which of all sights is perhaps the least vivid and dramatic, is enough to grip their attention for hours at a time. They stared at George and George's cab with unblinking gaze. They did not know what would happen or when it would happen, but they intended to wait till something did happen. It might be for years or it might be for ever, but they meant to be there when things began to occur.

Wot'll they be up to next

A young lady just got into your cab, said the stout young man.

Wot is it? 'Naccident?

A young lady just got into your cab, said the stout young man.

I've been in the cab all the time, and I should have noticed it.

A messenger boy, two shabby men engaged in non-essential industries, and a shop girl paused to observe the scene. Time was not of the essence to these confirmed sightseers. The shop girl was late already, so it didn't matter if she was any later; the messenger boy had nothing on hand except a message marked "Important: Rush"; and as for the two shabby men, their only immediate plans consisted of a vague intention of getting to some public house and leaning against the wall; so George's time was their time. One of the pair put his head on one side and said: "What ho"; the other picked up a cigar stub from the gutter and began to smoke.

A sceptic made a cynical suggestion.

A young lady just got into your cab, said the stout young man.

They're doin' of it for the pictures.

At this juncture the block in the traffic was relieved, and the cab bowled smartly on for some fifty yards when it was again halted. George, protruding from the window like a snail, was entertained by the spectacle of the pursuit. The hunt was up.Short of throwing his head up and baying, the stout young man behaved exactly as a bloodhound in similar circumstances would have conducted itself. He broke into a jerky gallop, attended by his self-appointed associates; and, considering that the young man was so stout, that the messenger boy considered it unprofessional to hurry, that the shop girl had doubts as to whether sprinting was quite ladylike, and that the two Bohemians were moving at a quicker gait than a shuffle for the first occasion in eleven years, the cavalcade made good time. The cab was still stationary when they arrived in a body.

A messenger boy, two shabby men engaged in non-essential industries, and a shop girl paused to observe the scene. Time was not of the essence to these confirmed sightseers. The shop girl was late already, so it didn't matter if she was any later; the messenger boy had nothing on hand except a message marked "Important: Rush"; and as for the two shabby men, their only immediate plans consisted of a vague intention of getting to some public house and leaning against the wall; so George's time was their time. One of the pair put his head on one side and said: "What ho"; the other picked up a cigar stub from the gutter and began to smoke.

Speculations became audible.

Wot is it? 'Naccident?

A sceptic made a cynical suggestion.

And what, he inquired suavely, leaning a little further out of the cab, "is eating you, Bill?"

A young lady just got into your cab, said the stout young man.

Two toffs 'ad a scrap

R"

Wot o', Charlie

The idea gained instant popularity.

They're doin' of it for the pictures.

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