between us. 'I thought everybody knew that three Dukes and Duchesses were off by this train for the great Durbar. By Jove! here they come.' He adjusted his eyeglass critically. 'Look, I say, isn't she a ripper?'
And there, making their way through the crowd just like ordinary human beings, were the three famous Dukes and Duchesses—nay, four, as I was soon to learn from the owner of a deep bass voice on my right. He also seemed to be the owner of a pale, tired-looking little woman who was standing beside him.
'Look!' he was saying impressively, in a deep, solemn voice, that seemed to impress visibly the meek little woman—'look, there go four Dukes and four Duchesses, and—I know them all.'
To prove that he spoke the truth, he swept off his hat and got the smallest of bows from the smallest and nearest of the Duchesses. The nearest Duke, intentionally or not, looked fixedly ahead. But I found out afterwards that this was a habit of that particular Duke.
'Seven-eighths of these people have come to say good-bye to the other eighth—eh, what?' said Charlie Danford in his pleasant voice, surveying the crowd critically through his eyeglass. Nobody took any notice of the remark. Nobody ever does take any notice of what Charlie Danford says, yet he's always asked everywhere. I never could make out why. I suppose it is that he looks very well. No one could ever call Charlie Danford a cad to look at, and that's something nowadays. It's so
