The lady shrieked viciously at me, and one of
her chairmen, my back being turned, pulled out his pole and came to attack
me. My man, however, very dexterously pushed the link in his face as he
was straddling over the chains, and he dropped the pole and spat and
spluttered tremendously. I stepped across to the lady and apologized for
detaining her, and then my man and I went on, easy victors.
Arrived at Queen Anne's Gate, another surprise awaited me. Master
Freake's windows were ablaze with light, and the door was being held open
by a man in handsome livery to admit an exquisite gentleman and a more
exquisite lady who had just arrived there in chairs. I gave my man his
guinea, and after dousing his link in a great iron extinguisher at the
side of the door, he sped happily away. After watching the arrival of
three or four more chairs and one carriage, I summoned up all my
resolution and gave a feeble rat-tat with the massive iron lion's-head
which served as knocker.
The man in livery opened to me, and I was inside before he could observe
that I was an intruder. True, I was in my best clothes--my Sunday clothes,
as I should have called them at home--and they were none so bad; but they
had been made in Boston, where fashions ranged on the sober side.
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