There was no three. There was a slight shriek and a thud on the floor.
Mrs Simeon Clowes jumped up and briskly rang a bell. The attendant
rushed in. The attendant saw Mrs Clowes gurgling into a handkerchief,
which she pressed to her mouth with one hand, while with the other, in
which she held her bonnet, she was fanning the face of Mr Cowlishaw. Mr
Cowlishaw had fainted from nervous excitement under fatigue. But his
unconscious hand held the forceps; and the forceps, victorious, held the
monumental tooth.
"O-o-pen the window," spluttered Mrs Clowes to the attendant. "He's gone
off; he'll come to in a minute."
She was flattered. Mr Cowlishaw was for ever endeared to Mrs Clowes by
this singular proof of her impressiveness. And a woman like that can
make the fortune of half a dozen dentists.
CATCHING THE TRAIN
I
Arthur Cotterill awoke. It was not exactly with a start that he awoke,
but rather with a swift premonition of woe and disaster. The strong,
bright glare from the patent incandescent street lamp outside, which the
lavish Corporation of Bursley kept burning at the full till long after
dawn in winter, illuminated the room (through the green blind) almost as
well as it illuminated Trafalgar Road.
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