"Look here,", said the unfortunate, at last, "wasn't there a girl you told me of last night you wanted to send flowers to? Let's go and get them; then we can have a drink somewhere."
"She'll wait," said Simon. "Besides, I've sent them. Come on."
"Very well," said Bobby, in desperation. "I believe I know a place where you can get your note changed; it's close by."
They reached a cigar merchant's. It was the cigar merchants and moneylenders that had often stood him in good stead. "Wait for me," said Bobby, and he went in. Behind the counter was a gentleman recalling Prince Florizel of Bohemia.
"Good morning, Mr. Ravenshaw," said this individual.
"Good morning, Alvarez," replied Bobby. "I haven't called about that little account I owe you though—but cheer up. I've got you a new customer—he wants a note changed."
"What sort of note?" asked Alvarez.
"A hundred-pound note; can you do it?"
"If the note's all right."
"Lord bless me, yes! I can vouch for that and for him; only he's strange to London. He's got heaps of money, too, but you must promise not to rook him too much over cigars, for he's a relative of mine."