Mrs. Walton shook her head.
"You could raise a bit of money on them," she suggested.
"Maybe," said Richard, "but I don't want to. There are only two kinds of money that are any use. Regular money or lots of money—a little money is no good to anyone and is better spent. By midnight tonight I hope to find myself with none at all."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Walton.
"That," replied Richard, "is precisely what I am relying upon. And I could not wish to start on my adventures under a happier ensign. Goodbye."
And to the amazement of the lady he hissed her very soundly and clattered down the stairs.
At the tobacconist he settled the last of his small accounts, purchased a hundred cigarettes and hailed a taxi.
"The Berkeley Grill Room," he said.
They were a little surprised at the informality of his attire, but there is something in the bearing of a restaurant habitué that would procure him the best the establishment can afford even though he appeared in a bathing suit.
"Stick me in a corner somewhere," he said, "I have no evening clothes."