Svengali gasped worse than Little Billee, and couldn’t speak for a while. Then he said,
«Lâche—grand lâche! che fous enferrai mes témoins!»
«At your orders!» said Taffy, in beautiful French, and drew out his card-case, and gave him his card in quite the orthodox French manner, adding: «I shall be here till to-morrow at twelve—but that is my London address, in case I don’t hear from you before I leave. I’m sorry, but you really mustn’t spit, you know—it’s not done. I will come to you whenever you send for me—even if I have to come from the end of the world.»
«Très bien! très bien!» said a military-looking old gentleman close by, who gave Taffy his card, in case he might be of any service—and who seemed quite delighted at the row—and indeed it was really pleasant to note with what a smoot
