“ Madam —When I saw you the other morning at Mr. Lathom’s studio, you suggested that you might be in a position to do some work for me. I shall possibly be requiring some assistance of this kind in the near future, and shall be obliged if you would call on me one evening at my hotel to discuss the matter.”
On the second day after dispatching this, I was informed that a lad was waiting downstairs to see me. I went down and found a ferrety-eyed youth, who introduced himself as Archie Cutts.
“Oh, yes,” I said, “you have come about the work I mentioned to your mother.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “Mother says as she can’t bring it ’ere, not ’avin’ the tools by ’er, but if you was to come down to our place on Friday, the party as she obliges bein’ out that night, she would be willing to make an arrangement.”
This was disagreeable.
“If I am to take that trouble,” said I, “I shall want to know, first, whether your mother is likely to be able to do what I want.”
He looked cunningly at me with his shifty eyes.
“Mother says she could show you letters from a lady as you know very well, only she won’t trust ’em to me, bein’ valuable to ’er and not wantin’ to lose ’em.”
“Oh, I see,” said I, loudly, “testimonials, eh? Letters of recommendation. I see. And your mother thinks she understands what is required and would be able to give satisfaction?”
“Yes, sir.”