"I beg pardon!" Edward Henry apologized, dropping the document which he had creased into a spill. There were no matches left on the table.
"I'll find you a match!"
"It's of no consequence," said Edward Henry, feeling in his pockets. Having discovered therein a piece of paper he twisted it and rose to put it to the gas.
"Could you slip round to your bank and meet me at the station in the morning with the cash?" suggested Mr. Bryany.
"No, I couldn't," said Edward Henry.
"Well, then, what—?"
"Here, you'd better take this," the "Card," reborn, soothed his host and, blowing out the spill which he had just ignited at the gas, he offered it to Mr. Bryany.
"What?"
"This, man!"
Mr. Bryany, observing the peculiarity of the spill, seized it and unrolled it—not without a certain agitation.