racket. Insisted on being host. When we had finished, he fumbled in
his pockets, looked pained and surprised, and drew me aside. 'Look
here, Licky, old horse,' he said, 'you know I never borrow money. It's
against my principles. But I /must/ have a couple of bob. Can you, my
dear good fellow, oblige me with a couple of bob till next Tuesday?
I'll tell you what I'll do. (In a voice full of emotion). I'll let you
have this (producing a beastly little threepenny bit with a hole in it
which he had probably picked up in the street) until I can pay you
back. This is of more value to me than I can well express, Licky, my
boy. A very, very dear friend gave it to me when we parted, years ago
. . . It's a wrench . . . Still,--no, no . . . You must take it, you
must take it. Licky, old man, shake hands, old horse. Shake hands, my
boy.' He then tottered to the bar, deeply moved, and paid up out of
the five shillings which he had made it as an after-thought. He asked
after you, and said you were one of the noblest men on earth. I gave
him your address, not being able to get out of it, but if I were you I
should fly while there is yet time."


It seemed to me that the advice was good and should be followed. I
needed a change of air. London may have suited Doctor Johnson, but in
the summer time it is not for the ordinary man. What I wanted, to
enable me to give the public of my best (as the reviewer of a weekly
paper, dealing with my last work, had expressed a polite hope that I
would continue to do) was a little haven in the country somewhere.

I rang the bell.

"Sir?" said Mrs. Medley.