Glyddyr scowled at him.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr Glyddyr. Like my confounded impudence to ask. I’m off back to town. No message for Madame Denise, I suppose?”
“No.”
“Very good, very good, sir. Good day.”
“Good day,” said Glyddyr shortly, and his visitor walked to the door of the tiny saloon, set his hat jauntily on one side, and then turned and came back, and rested his hands upon the back of the nearest seat.
“Oh, by the way, Mr Glyddyr, I think I did hint that I was rather short of the ready. Be good enough to write me a cheque for a thou, on account.”
Glyddyr winced.
“I have no money in hand,” he said abruptly.
“All nonsense, my dear sir; don’t trifle with a man. You must be rolling in coin. One thou, please.”
“I tell you I have no money.”