Mr. Chadband, pausing with the resignation of a man accustomed to be persecuted and languidly folding up his chin into his fat smile, says, "Let us hear the maiden! Speak, maiden!"
"One thousing seven hundred and eighty-two, if you please, sir. Which he wish to know what the shilling ware for," says Guster, breathless.
"For?" returns Mrs. Chadband. "For his fare!"
Guster replied that "he insistes on one and eightpence or on summonsizzing the party." Mrs. Snagsby and Mrs. Chadband are proceeding to grow shrill in indignation when Mr. Chadband quiets the tumult by lifting up his hand.

Mr. Chadband, pausing with the resignation of a man accustomed to be persecuted, folds up his chin into his fat smile, and says, "Let us hear the maiden!"
"Cab number one thousing seven hundred and eighty-two, if you please, sir. Which he wish to know what the shilling ware for," says Guster, breathless.
"For?" returns Mrs. Chadband. "His fare!"
Guster replies that "he insists on one and eightpence or on summonsizzing the party." Mrs. Snagsby and Mrs. Chadband are growing shrill in indignation when Mr. Chadband quiets the tumult by lifting up his hand.
