mple to the Bank of
England--they asked me where I bought it--bought it! Lord! Oh well--one
of these days, I suppose. Meet again perhaps. G'bye."

And with a cheery wave of the hand he vaulted the railings and ran
lightly across the grass.

"I'm damned," said Richard. "If a fellow like that can make gold it
follows to reason I ought to be able to make good."

It was after nine o'clock when Richard turned down the Earl's Court Road.
He stopped before a small sweet stuff shop, attracted by a card in the
window which read, "Letters may be addressed here, 1d."

"I suppose a man, even in my circumstances, ought to have a town
address," he argued. "After all, one never knows."

Accordingly he entered and registered under the modest name of John Tidd.
To the little old lady who wrote it down in a small laundry book devoted
to the purpose, he said he was probably going abroad and later might send
a request to forward correspondence. It was a dignified and pleasant
transaction although he was conscious of a feeling that he would have
created a more agreeable impression had he retained his necktie.

Coming out of the shop he fell into line with the tide of city workers
moving southward to the underground station. These were the nobility of
commerce who picked up the reins of office at nine forty-five--persons of
substance in no way to be confused with the eight-thirty worker. It was
an honourable association to walk down the Earl's Court Road in such
company. Richard swung along at an even gait with an important looking
individual in a hard felt hat to the right of him and a stout gentleman
with a King Edward beard to the left. The three entered Earl's Court
Station abreast and approached the barrier, where Richard stepped aside
and let them pass through. Leaning against the grill gates was a man
reading a folded copy of the _Daily Sketch_. He looked at Richard for an
instant, then looked again searchingly. The repeated action attracted
Richard's notice and their eyes met.

"Hardly worth while, is it?" said the man.

"I beg your pardon," Richard returned.

"Oh, that's quite all right--but I really wouldn't bother with it." He
pointed at the opening of Richard's waistcoat and smiled. "That's rather
a sound notion--no tie--distracts the eye from looking too keenly at the
face. You nearly passed me."

"To be perfectly frank," Richard answered, "I shouldn't have bought crepe
if I had."

The man laughed.