A Train Station near Manchester

Mr. Artemis had a slight spring in his step as he stepped off the train. Ah, Manchester! Such a lovely town with a lovely name. He tipped his hat to the ladies as he passed by to retrieve his luggage, and old steamer trunk that whose appearance seemed more out of date than the old gent's outfit. Not that anyone working the station seemed to mind. He certainly tipped well enough.

He hummed pleasantly to himself. Those who listened to any Sinatra at all would instantly recognize the tune. He only stopped singing to himself to smile at passers-by. A tip of the hat and a friendly greeting of "Good morning, ladies," was enough to cause a look or two or even more. He seemed to relish the attention, and even whispered laughs and jibes at his outlandish behavior only encouraged him.

Mr. Artemis quickly got himself a taxi and instructed the driver, "A fine hotel, if you please. I could be staying for a while. Quite a while."