Bones in London

And as he footed it briskly up Devonshire Street, he recited:

"O Marguerite, thou lovely flower,
I think of thee most every hour,
With eyes of grey and eyes of blue,
That change with every passing hue,
Thy lovely fingers beautifully typing,
How sweet and fragrant is thy writing!

He thought he was reciting to himself, but that was not the case.
People turned and watched him, and when he passed the green doorway of
Dr. Harkley Bawkley, the eminent brain specialist, they were visibly
disappointed.

And as he footed it briskly up Devonshire Street, he recited:

"O Marguerite, thou lovely flower,
I think of thee most every hour,
With eyes of grey and eyes of blue,
That change with every passing hue,
Thy lovely fingers beautifully typing,
How sweet and fragrant is thy writing!

He thought he was reciting to himself, but that was not the case.
People turned and watched him, and when he passed the green doorway of
Dr. Harkley Bawkley, the eminent brain specialist, they were visibly
disappointed.

Companies that required ten thousand pounds for the extension of their premises, and the fulfilment of the orders which were certain to come next year, drafted through their secretaries the most wonderful letters, offering Bones a seat on their board, or even two seats, in exchange for his autograph on the south-east corner of a cheque. These letters usually began somehow like this:

"At a moment when the eyes of the world are turned upon Great Britain, and when her commercial supremacy is threatened, it behoves us all to increase production…." And usually there was some reference to "the patriotic duty of capital."

There was a time when these appeals to his better nature would have moved Bones to amazing extravagance, but happily that time was before he had any money to speak about.