Malcolm laughed and handed half a sovereign to the man.
"Go and get something to eat," he said.
"Hold hard," said the other as Malcolm was turning away. "What is your name?"
"Does that matter?" asked the young man with amusement.
"It matters a lot to me," said the other seriously. "I like to pay back anything I borrow."
"Hay is my name—Malcolm Hay. It's no use giving you my address, because I shall be in Russia next week."
"In Russia, eh? That's rum!" Cherry Bim scratched his unshaven chin. "I'm always meeting Russians."
He looked at the young engineer thoughtfully, then, with a little jerk of his head and a "So long!" he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Malcolm looked at his watch. He would try Kensky again, he thought; but again his mission was fruitless. He might have given up his search for this will-o'-the-wisp but for the fact that his new employers seemed to attach considerable importance to his making acquaintance with this notability of Kieff. He could hardly be out after dinner—he would try again.