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Updated: May 1, 2025
It was no mere meal, it was no coarse orgy, but a little feast for the fastidious gods, not unworthy of Lucullus at his worst. And I who had bolted my skilly at Wormwood Scrubbs, and tightened my belt in a Holloway attic, it was I who sat down to this ineffable repast!
A kind of fierce restlessness had begun to get hold of me as we drew nearer to London, and I watched the fields and houses flying past with an impatience I could hardly control. We rushed through Hanwell and Acton, and then suddenly the huge bulk of Wormwood Scrubbs Prison loomed up in the growing dusk away to the right of the line.
So on the Sunday I was going to have it out with her people with the Count and Stefano as soon as they showed their noses. I had no inducement, remember, ever to return to surreptitious life within a cab-fare of Wormwood Scrubbs. Faustina and the Bay of Naples were quite good enough for me. And the prehistoric man in me rather exulted in the idea of fighting for my desire.
"I myself have been up to my eyebrows in industry this week," said the other, self-commiseratingly. "I sometimes wish charity could be abolished altogether. It does entail such an enormous amount of hard labour. One might as well be in Wormwood Scrubbs." She paused and looked at the girl intently. "By the bye, where is Wormwood Scrubbs? One often hears of it." "Over beyond Shepherd's Bush."
"To leave lodgin's in that suddent way, without never so much as a day's warnin', which was what every woman who didn't wish to be trodden underfoot, which thank hevving wasn't HER way, had a perfect right to expect; yes, and a week's warnin' now you mention it, and without even so much as sayin' 'Many thanks, Mistress Scrubbs, for all past kindnesses, which was most numerous, though she said it who shouldn't say it; leastwise she wasn't never no kind of person to be lookin' for thanks every minnit.
I, however, have cracked only too many a crib in conjunction with A. J. Raffles, and at the crucial moment he would whisper "Victory or Wormwood Scrubbs, Bunny!" or instead of Wormwood Scrubbs it might be Portland Bill. This time it was neither one nor the other, for with that very word "victory" upon his lips, they whitened and parted with the first taste of defeat.
The consequence was that all these ladies, all their daughters, all the relations and connexions of this life, thought it incumbent upon them to 'blow' our friend Puff proclaim how infamously he had behaved all because he had danced three supper dances with one girl, brought another a fine bouquet from Covent Garden, walked a third away from her party at a picnic at Erith, begged the mamma of a fourth to take her to a Woolwich ball, sent a fifth a ticket for a Toxophilite meeting, and dangled about the carriage of the sixth at a review at the Scrubbs.
Whereas the bad golfers and by bad I do not mean incompetent, but black-souled the men who fail to count a stroke when they miss the globe; the men who never replace a divot; the men who talk while their opponent is driving; and the men who let their angry passions rise these are in and out of Wormwood Scrubbs all the time.
Besides, I was not quite sure that my prospects were really worth thinking about just now. Certainly, I had always lived comfortably, spending money, eating and drinking of the best, and dressing well that is, according to the London standard. And there was my dear old bachelor Uncle Jack John Smith, Member of Parliament for Wormwood Scrubbs.
So rapidly had Paulhan's machine been transported from Dover, and "assembled" at Hendon, that Mr. White, whose biplane was standing ready at Wormwood Scrubbs, was taken by surprise when he heard that his rival had started on the journey and "stolen a march on him", so to speak.
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