So, happening to find
myself by a line of taxis, I had a mind to ask what the fare might be
down to Shorncliffe and tell the man that my husband was expecting me
and would pay at the other end. I was that tired, I got into the
handiest taxi--that looked smart and comfortable, with a little lamp
inside and a nice bunch of artificial flowers made up to look like my
Christian name--And what do you think that is? Guess.'
"'I'm hopeless with plants, ma'am," said I, looking hard at the taxi.
'Might it be Daisy?'
"'No, it ain't,' said she. 'There now, you'll take a long time
guessing, at that rate. It's Petunia. . . . Well, then as I was
saying, I got in and sat back in the cushions, waiting for the
Shofer, if that's how you pronounce it; and I reckon I must have
closed my eyes, for the next thing I remember was this friend of
yours sitting plump in my lap without so much as asking leave.
Before I could recover myself we were off. And now, I put it to you
as a gentleman, What's to become of me? For, as perhaps I ought to
warn you, my husband's a terror when he's roused.
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