"
"Say what?" demanded Smith.
"That we would miss the boat and the train. Isn't it funny?"
"Oh, very. I'll say it again sometime if it amuses you; but, meanwhile,
as we're going to that week-end at the Carringtons we'd better get into a
taxi and hustle for the foot of West Forty-second Street. Is there
anything very funny in that?"
"I knew _that_, too. I knew you'd say we must take a taxi!" insisted
Brown, astonished at his own "clairvoyance."
"Now, look here," retorted Smith, thoroughly vexed; "up to five minutes
ago you were reasonable. What the devil's the matter with you, Beekman
Brown?"
"James Vanderdynk Smith, I don't know. Good Heavens! I knew you were
going to say that to me, and that I was going to answer that way!"
"Are you coming or are you going to talk foolish on this broiling
curbstone the rest of the afternoon?" inquired Smith, fiercely.
"Jim, I tell you that everything we've done and said in the last five
minutes we have done and said before--somewhere--perhaps on some other
planet; perhaps centuries ago when you and I were Romans and wore
togas----"
"Confound it! What do I care," shouted Smith, "whether we were Romans and
wore togas? We are due this century at a house party on this planet. They
expect us on this train. Are you coming? If not--kindly relax that
crablike clutch on my elbow before partial paralysis ensues.
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