It was Thursday afternoon; still there were several disconsolate-looking individuals lounging about the corner; and in the saloon bar we found some fourteen or fifteen loudly dressed men and women typical of the spot.  I forget what I ordered for Desmoulin and myself, but M. Zola, I know imbibed, mainly for the good of the house, ‘a small lemon plain.’  Then we ascertained that the young lady at the bar had neither stamps, nor paper, nor envelopes, and so we were again in a quandary.  Fortunately I recollected a little stationer’s shop in the York Road, and leaving the others in the saloon bar, I went in search of the requisite materials.

When I returned I found the master an object of general attention.  His extremely prosperous appearance, his white billycock, his jewellery, and so forth, coupled with the circumstance that he conversed in French with Desmoulin, had led some of those present to imagine that he was a Continental music-hall director on the look out for English ‘artists.’

Again and again I noticed, as it were, a ‘hungry’ glance in his direction; and when, after procuring an inkstand from over the bar, I had ensconced him in a corner, where he was able after a fashion to pen his correspondence, a vivacious and, it seemed to me, somewhat bibulous gentleman in a check suit sidled up to where I stood and introduced himself in that easy way which repeated ‘drops’ of ‘Mountain Dew’ are apt to engender.

‘Ah!’ said he, after a few pointless remarks, ’your friend is over here on business, eh?  Right thing, splendid thing.  It’s only by looking round that one can get real tip-top novelties.  Oh!  I know Paree and the bouleywards well enough.  I was on at the Follee Bergey only a few years ago myself.  A good place that—­pays well, eh?  I shouldn’t at all mind taking a trip across the water again.  There’s nothing like a change, you know.  Sets a man up, eh?’

Then mysteriously—­lifting his forefinger and lowering his voice, ’Now your friend wants “talent,” eh?  Real, genuine “talent”!  I could put him in the way——­’

But I interposed:  ‘You’ve applied to the wrong shop,’ I said by way of a joke; ‘my friend has all the talent he requires.  He’s quite full up.’

A sorrowful look came over the angular features of the gentleman in the check suit.  ‘It’s like my luck,’ said he; ’there was a fellow over from Amsterdam the other day, but he’d only take girls.  I think the Continental line’s pretty nigh played out.’

He heaved a sigh and glanced in the direction of his empty glass.  Then, seeing that the novelist and Desmoulin were rising to join me, he whispered hurriedly, ’I say, guv’nor, you haven’t got a tanner you could spare, have you?’

I had foreseen the request; nevertheless I pressed a few coppers into his hand and then hurried out after my wards.

Though it was still early we decided to start at once for Wimbledon.  The master, I thought, might like to see a little of the place pending Wareham’s arrival.