At last he walked straight through the hotel and out at the other entrance， and so up the little unassuming side street into the roaring torrent of the narrow and crowded Strand. He jumped on a Putney bus， and paid his fair to Putney， fivepence， and then， finding that the humble occupants of the vehicle stared at the spectacle of a man in evening dress but without a dustcoat， he jumped off again， oblivious of the fact that the conductor jerked a thumb towards him and winked at the passengers as who should say， 'There goes a lunatic.' He went into a tobacconist's shop and asked for a cigar. The shopman mildly inquired what price.
'What are the best you've got？' asked Theodore Racksole.
'Five shillings each， sir，' said the man promptly.
'Give me a penny one，' was Theodore Racksole's laconic request， and he walked out of the shop smoking the penny cigar. It was a new sensation for him.
He was inhaling the aromatic odours of Eugène Rimmel's establishment for the sale of scents when a gentleman， walking slowly in the opposite direction， accosted him with a quiet， 'Good evening， Mr Racksole.' The millionaire did not at first recognize his interlocutor， who wore a travelling overcoat， and was carrying a handbag. Then a slight， pleased smile passed over his features， and he held out his hand.
'Well， Mr Babylon，' he greeted the other， 'of all persons in the wide world you are the man I would most have wished to meet.'
'You flatter me，' said the little Anglicized Swiss.
'No， I don't，' answered Racksole； 'it isn't my custom， any more than it's yours. I wanted to have a real good long yarn with you， and lo！ here you are！ Where have you sprung from？'
'From Lausanne，' said Felix Babylon. 'I had finished my duties there， I had nothing else to do， and I felt homesick. I felt the nostalgia of London， and so I came over， just as you see，' and he raised the handbag for Racksole's notice. 'One toothbrush， one razor， two slippers， ehl' He laughed. 'I was wondering as I walked along where I should stay - me， Felix Babylon， homeless in London.'
'I should advise you to stay at the Grand Babylon，' Racksole laughed back.
'It is a good hotel， and I know the proprietor personally.'
'Rather expensive， is it not？' said Babylon.
'To you， sir，' answered Racksole， 'the inclusive terms will be exactly half a crown a week. Do you accept？'
'I accept，' said Babylon， and added， 'You are very good， Mr Racksole.'
They strolled together back to the hotel， saying nothing in particular， but feeling very content with each other's company.
'Many customers？' asked Felix Babylon.
'Very tolerable，' said Racksole， assuming as much of the air of the professional hotel proprietor as he could. 'I think I may say in the storekeeper's phrase， that if there is any business about I am doing it.
To-night the people are all on the terrace in the portico - it's so confoundedly hot - and the consumption of ice is simply enormous - nearly as large as it would be in New York.'
'In that case，' said Babylon politely， 'let me offer you another cigar.'
'But I have not finished this one.'
'That is just why I wish to offer you another one. A cigar such as yours， my good friend， ought never to be smoked within the precincts of the Grand Babylon， not even by the proprietor of the Grand Babylon， and especially when all the guests are assembled in the portico. The fumes of it would ruin any hotel.'
Theodore Racksole laughingly lighted the Rothschild Havana which Babylon gave him， and they entered the hotel arm in arm.
But no sooner had they mounted the steps than little Felix became the object of numberless greetings. It appeared that he had been highly popular among his quondam guests. At last they reached the managerial room， where Babylon was regaled on a chicken， and Racksole assisted him in the consumption of a bottle of Heidsieck Monopole， Carte d'Or.
'This chicken is almost perfectly grilled，' said Babylon at length. 'It is a credit to the house. But why， my dear Racksole， why in the name of Heaven did you quarrel with Rocco？'
'Then you have heard？'
