ANGEL PAVEMENT

force of it. 'That was the name these chaps gave him.
Do it properly, Fred, this time. Dress up for it."

"Shall I? What about it?"

"Yes, go on, do. Like you did that time at Mr.
Slingsby's. I'll tell you all about that night in a
minute," Mrs. Fred added, with the air of one about to
confer a great favour. "That was a night. But go on,
Fred."

"All right," replied Fred, noisily finishing his whisky.
"I will—by special request."

"Looks as though we're going to have a performance,"
said Dalby, not very pleasantly. There had been rather
too much of Fred for his taste.

"That's right," Fred shouted at him, not too
pleasantly either. "Any objections?"

"Hurry up, Fred," cried Mrs. Smeeth, beaming at him.
"We're all waiting."

"Allow me one minute in which to change my
costume," Fred replied, "and I will oblige." And out
he went, and the others were moved about to allow a
clear space near the door, and Mrs. Dalby and Mrs.
Mitty were pressed to take a little more of the Rich
Ruby or to have a sandwich or a piece of cake, and Mrs.
Dalby had a sandwich and Mrs. Mitty, whose long nose
was a much deeper shade of blue than it had originally
been, accepted another glass of the Rich Ruby.

"I ought to tell you that this chap he's going to take
off," Mrs. Fred explained to them, "was a chap Fred
had some business dealings with in Birmingham. He
owned one of the picture theatres there. He wasn't a
bad sort of chap really, but he was an absolute comic-
didn't mean to be, y'know, didn't know he was funny—
but he was, and Fred and the other fellows used to make