"Yes--are you?"
John nodded. "Are you lunching at the Club?"
"No--I've got to meet some people at the Carlton--How's the time--my watch is being mended."
"I don't know," said John--"my watch is all smashed up. It's just on one I should think."
"As much as that? I must be moving on. Shall we get on a 'bus?"
The very thing. John acquiesced readily. He had nothing; a careful calculation of what he had spent that morning will account for that. But his friend could pay. It was his turn.
They mounted the stairs and took a front seat behind the driver.
"You'll have to pay for me to-day," said John. "My pockets are empty till I get a cheque changed."
The blood mounted to the face of his friend. For a moment he looked as though his beautiful hat were too tight for his head. He felt in his pocket. Then he produced a little stamp case, with gold mounted corners and one penny stamp inside.
"I'm awfully sorry," said he--"I--I've only got a penny stamp." He rose quickly to his feet.