"I've no intention of being content," he said. "I just happen to have hit the rocks but I'll get sailing again one of these days."
"Well I'm glad to hear you say so, and now I must toddle along."
He asked what employment could engage her at so early an hour.
"I'm going to pick over the dustbins in Bond Street," she returned, and added "You never know what you'll find. Only you must be early. Goo' morning." And with a sunny smile the disreputable old thing shuffled away warbling a snatch of song as she went.
"By Jove," said Richard, "I suppose that's about what I'm doing—picking over dustbins and wondering what I shall find."
He looked across the park to where the golden orb of the sun was rising over the tree tops and lifted his hat in salutation.
"Good morning, day," he said. "Your servant to command. Gad! but I could do with some breakfast."
He rose and walked briskly toward Knightsbridge. The coffee stall by Hyde Park Corner attracted his attention. A few early carters and an occasional loafer were gathered about it and the smell of victuals was tempting. Richard noticed the driver of a large dray was leaning against the railings pouring tea into the saucer of his cup. He was a big man and his apparel was conspicuous by the fact that he wore a collar but no tie. The omission suggested an idea.
"Do you want a tie by any chance?" Richard asked and listened to a highly decorated ambition to know what he was talking about.
"Only this," he answered. "I've a notion I could do with some breakfast and it occurred to me as you might like to buy me one in exchange for a perfectly good Etonian tie."