you, and now, as I appealed to the testimony of the soap I think I ought to abide by its verdict. If the loan of a sovereign is any good to you—’

The young man hastily removed all doubt on the subject by pocketing the coin.

‘Here is my card with my address,’ continued Gortsby; ‘any day this week will do for returning the money, and here is the soap—don’t lose it again; it’s been a good friend to you.’

‘Lucky thing your finding it,’ said the youth, and then, with a catch in his voice, he blurted out a word or two of thanks and fled headlong in the direction of Knightsbridge.

‘Poor boy, he as nearly as possible broke down,’ said Gortsby to himself. ‘I don’t wonder either; the relief from his quandary must have been acute. It’s a lesson to me not to be too clever in judging by circumstances.’

As Gortsby retraced his steps past the seat where the little drama had taken place he saw an elderly gentleman poking and peering beneath it and on all sides of it, and recognised his earlier fellow occupant.

‘Have you lost anything, sir?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir, a cake of soap.’