I wish anyway that you would come back to London. You were the only friend I ever had that I could be certain of beating at billiards, and you have no right to bury a talent like that in the wilds of Livadia. If you will come soon you can do me a good turn. I am thinking of opening a garage in Piccadilly on entirely new lines, and I want someone to manage it for me. The idea would be that customers could put up their cars there, and when they came to fetch them they would find their tools and gasoline absolutely untouched. I am sure it would be a terrific success just on account of its novelty. We would call it "The Sign of the Eighth Commandment," and we should be able to charge fairly high prices, because people would be so dazed at finding they hadn't been robbed that they would never notice what we were asking. I am quite serious about this, Jimmy, so come along back at once before the Livadians further corrupt your natural dishonesty. Talking of Livadia, there is something I want you to do for me before you leave. I have a young and beautiful friend who takes a morbid interest in your local politics, and she is extremely anxious to know exactly what is happening out there at the present time. I told her that if there was any really promising villainy in the offing you would be sure to know all about it, so don't destroy the good impression of you I have taken the trouble to give her. Sit down and write me a nice, bright, chatty letter telling me who is going to be murdered next and when it's coming off, and then pack up your things, shake the dust of Portriga off your boots (if you still wear boots) and come home to Your friend and partner, TONY. "That's very nice," said Molly critically. "I had no idea you could write such a good letter." "Nor had I," said Tony. "I am always surprising myself with my own talents." There was a short pause. "What's Jimmy like?" asked Molly. Tony addressed the envelope and proceeded to fasten it up. "He is quite charming," he said. "He is chubby and round, and he talks in a little gentle whisper like a small child. He can drink fourteen whiskies without turning a hair, and I don't believe he has ever lost his temper in his life." "He sounds a dear," said Molly. "I wonder you let him go." "I couldn't help it," said Tony sadly. "He has some extraordinary objection to borrowing from his friends, and he owed so much to everyone else that he had to go away." "I wonder if he will answer the letter," said Molly. Tony got up with the envelope in his hand. "You can be sure of that. Jimmy always answers letters. We shall hear from him in less than a week and I'll come round and see you at once." He looked at his watch. "I am afraid I must be off now, Molly. I have a very important engagement with a bishop." "Rot," returned Molly. "Bishops never get up till the middle of the day." "This one does," said Tony. "He suffers from insomnia."