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"
"
"
"
I don't mean anything by it," said Mr. Fotheringay. "Nothing at all."
What d'yer do it for then?"
Oh, bother!" said Mr. Fotheringay.
Bother indeed! D'yer know that stick hurt? What d'yer do it for, eh?"
For the moment Mr. Fotheringay could not think what he had done it for.
His silence seemed to irritate Mr. Winch. "You've been assaulting the
police, young man, this time. That's what you done."
"Look here, Mr. Winch," said Mr. Fotheringay, annoyed and confused, "I'm
very sorry. The fact is----"
"
Well?"
He could think of no way but the truth. "I was working a miracle." He
tried to speak in an off-hand way, but try as he would he couldn't.
"
Working a----! 'Ere, don't you talk rot. Working a miracle, indeed!
Miracle! Well, that's downright funny! Why, you's the chap that don't
believe in miracles.... Fact is, this is another of your silly conjuring
tricks--that's what this is. Now, I tell you----"
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