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Yates, Dornford, 1885-1960

"Berry And Co."

Bereft of my
own headgear, I had no choice. Some absent-minded priest is now
scandalizing his parishioners by parading in a pearl-grey Homburg which
is four sizes too big for him, while I--would you have me go naked in
the streets?"
Here the Vice-Chancellor passed, preceded by his Bedels with staves
reversed, and Berry uncovered and fell upon his knees. Surprised by the
unwonted attention, the dignitary raised his mortar-board and bowed.
"Let's go and touch him," said Berry excitedly. "Then we shan't get the
King's Evil. That's the origin of inoculation."
"I implore you," said Daphne, "to behave yourself. As a personal
favour----"
"You see in me," said her husband, "a huntleyed palmer seeking the tomb
of Anne of Cloves. On finding it, I must scourge myself. Anyone who
directs me to it will be assaulted."
"She's buried at Oranges," said Jonah. "But don't let that stop you."
Berry replaced his wideawake and stared at him.
"To mock me," he said, "is most dangerous. Several people have been
transformed for such an offence. Only yesterday I was compelled to
change a taxi-driver into a Gorgonzola of military age."
Several clocks struck the half-hour. Half-past two.
"Look here," said I.


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