But it's drivin' a cab I'm good at; been on the box
fourteen year come next Christmas. Ye don't mind, do ye, sor, my not
tellin' ye before? Lord Bentig'll tell ye all about me next time ye see
him in Lunnon." This touch was truly Finian. "He's cousin, ye know, sor,
to this young chap what's here at the inn wid his bride. They wouldn't
know me, sor, nor don't, but I've driv her father many a time. My rank
used to be near his house on Bolton Terrace. I had a thing happen there
one night that--more water? Yes, sor--and the other brush--the big one?
Yes, sor--thank ye, sor. I don't shake, do I, sor?"
"No, Fin; go on."
"Well, I was tellin' ye about the night Sir Henry's man--that's the
lady's father, sor--come to the rank where I sat on me box. It was about
ten o'clock--rainin' hard and bad goin', it was that slippery.
"'His Lordship wants ye in a hurry, Fin,' and he jumped inside.
"When I got there I see something was goin' on--a party or
something--the lights was lit clear up to the roof.
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