He thought he must have made some mistake when he found himself in a cigar shop, but the man behind the counter saw immediately that he was a stranger, and understood what he wanted.

"One shilling, sir,--thank ye, sir,--cigar, sir ?--ticket for coffee, sir;--you'll only have to call the waiter.

Up those stairs, if you please, sir.

Better take the cigar, sir,--you can always give it to a friend, you know.

Well, sir, thank ye, sir;--as you are so good, I'll smoke it myself." And so Mr Harding ascended to the divan, with his ticket for coffee, but minus the cigar.
The place seemed much more suitable to his requirements than the room in which he had dined: there was, to be sure, a strong smell of tobacco, to which he was not accustomed; but after the shell-fish, the tobacco did not seem disagreeable.