Dear Sir ⁠—You may not remember me, but you did me a good turn once in Shanghai. Do me another now. I must have money to get out of the country. I’m well hid here, I hope, but any day they may get me. The Big Four, I mean. It’s life or death. I’ve plenty of money, but I daren’t get at it, for fear of putting them wise. Send me a couple of hundred in notes. I’ll repay it faithful⁠—I swear to that.

—Your servant, sir,

Jonathan Whalley

“Dated from Granite Bungalow, Hoppaton, Dartmoor. I’m afraid I regarded it as rather a crude method of relieving me of a couple of hundred which I can ill spare. If it’s any use to you⁠—” He held it out.

“ Je vous remercie , monsieur. I start for Hoppaton à l’heure même .”