From a pocket-book, he took a little brown paper envelope and from the brown paper envelope counted out four five-pound notes, five golden sovereigns, one half-sovereign, and ten shillings’ worth of silver. Soames’ eyes glittered, delightedly.
“A little informal receipt?” smiled Gianapolis, raising his eyebrows, satanically. “Here on this page of my notebook I have written: ‘Received from Mr. King for service rendered, £26, being payment, in advance, of amount due on 31st October 19’ I have attached a stamp to the page, as you will see,” continued Gianapolis, “and here is a fountain-pen. Just sign across the stamp, adding to-day’s date.”
Soames complied with willing alacrity; and Gianapolis having carefully blotted the signature, replaced the notebook in his pocket, and politely acknowledged the return of the fountain-pen. Soames, glancing furtively about him, replaced the money in the envelope, and thrust the latter carefully into a trouser pocket.
“Now,” resumed Gianapolis, “we must not permit our affairs of business to interfere with our amusements.”
He stepped up to the bar and ordered two more whiskies with soda. These being sampled, business was resumed.
“To-morrow,” said Gianapolis, leaning forward across the table so that his face almost touched that
