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"I daren't take it, sir; they would say I had stolen it, and I should be
locked up. No one would believe a gentleman had given it to me."
She trembled, overwhelmed by the colossal fortune that might, and yet
might not, be hers. I sympathised, but not having the change in gold, I
could do no more than listen to an incoherent tale of misery, which did
not aid the solution of the problem. It was manifestly impossible to
take back the note; and yet if she retained it she would be subjected
to scandalous indignities. What was to be done? I turned my eyes
towards Piccadilly and beheld a policeman. A page wearing the name of a
milliner's shop on his cap whisked past me. I stopped him and slipped a
shilling into his hand.
"Will you ask that policeman to come to me?"
The boy tore down the street and told the policeman and followed him up
to me, eager for amusement.
"What has the woman been doing, sir?" asked the policeman.
"Nothing," said I. "I have given her a five-pound note."
"What for, sir?" he asked.


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