a reliable connection. He was very pale, and when I asked him the time, he could not tell me. These are things a man notices, after being on the Exchange for some twenty years, and witnessing a good many things. It’s a good many firms I've seen go down!
I thought he would turn to the right, and said I had to go to the left. But, you see, he went to the left also, and so I could not avoid getting into conversation with him. But I remembered every moment that he did not know the time, and noticed moreover that his shabby coat was buttoned right up to the chin—which is a very bad sign—so that I kept the tone of our conversation somewhat lukewarm. He told me he had been in India, that he was married, that he had children. I had nothing against it, but found nothing interesting in it. Near Kapel-lane—at no other time do I go through that lane, because it does not, it seems to me, become a respectable man—but this time I wished to turn to the right at Kapel-lane. I waited till we had nearly passed that little street, so as to make it clear that his road was straight on, and then I said very courteously . . . for I am always courteous, one never knows how perhaps one may afterwards want a man:
“I was particularly delighted to see you again, Sir—r —r! And—and—and—my best wishes! I have to go in here.”
Then he looked at me very peculiarly and sighed, and suddenly got hold of a button of my coat. . . .
“Dear Drystubble,” he said, “I have something to ask you.”
A cold shiver went through my spine. He did not know the time, and he wanted to ask me something! I answered of course that I had no time to spare, and had to go to ’Change, although it was evening. But when one has been on the Exchange for twenty years . . . and a man wants to ask you something, without knowing the time . . .
I disengaged my button, saluted most politely—for I am always polite—and entered Kapel-lane, a thing I never do otherwise, as it is not respectable, and I place respectability above everything. I trust no one saw me.
