door I
heard a huge voice in a more or less violent altercation, and there
was S. F. U., in a villainous old suit of gray flannels (I'll swear it
was the same one that he had on last time I saw him), and a
mackintosh, though it was a blazing hot day. His pince-nez were tacked
onto his ears with wire as usual. He greeted me with effusive shouts,
and drew me aside. Then after a few commonplaces of greeting, he
fumbled in his pockets, looked pained and surprised.

"'Look here, Licky,' he said. 'You know I never borrow. It's against
my principles. But I _must_ have a shilling, or I'm a ruined man. I
seem to have had my pocket picked by some scoundrelly blackguard. Can
you, my dear fellow, oblige me with a shilling until next Tuesday
afternoon at three-thirty? I never borrow, so I'll tell you what I'll
do. I'll let you have this (producing a beastly little three-penny-bit
with a hole in it) 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 to part with
it. But grim necessity ... I can hardly do it.... Still, no, no, ...
you must take it, you must take it. Licky, old man, shake hands!
Shake hands, my boy!'

"He then asked after you, and said you were the noblest man--except
me--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."

"That," said Jerry Garnet, "is the soundest bit of advice I've heard.
I will."

"Mrs. Medley," he said, when that lady made her appearance.

"Sir?"

"I'm going away for a few weeks. You can let the rooms if you like.
I'll drop you a line when I think of coming back."

"Yes, sir. And your letters. Where shall I send them, sir?"

"Till further notice," said Jerry Garnet, pulling out a giant
portmanteau from a corner of the room and flinging it open, "care of
the Dalai Lama, No. 3 Younghusband Terrace, Tibet."

"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Medley placidly.

"I'll write you my address to-night. I don't know where I'm going yet.
Is that an A. B. C. over there? Good. Give my love to that bright
young spirit on the top floor, and tell him that I hope my not being
here to listen won't interfere in any way with his morning popular
concerts."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Mrs. Medley, if a man named ----"

Mrs. Medley had drifted silently away. During his last speech a
thunderous knocking had begun on the front doo