Spencer watched the girl go and offered her back a slight shrug. 

“Suit yourself” he thought 

He smoothed the note out with the back of his hand and read it, then read it again. Even on the third reading he could make no sense from the letter which he left on the table. Lifting his bag from the floor he unclipped it and reached inside,  

“A poor attempt at lifting his wallet” he decided and resolved to be keep his distance from these delinquents next time.  

He was frustrated at what he perceived to have been a missed opportunity and was contemplating the girls words when his hand brushed his gun and, for a brief second he placed his palm against the varnished grip, intending to slip it into his suit pocket. Instead he reached for his cigarette case and his pen.  He clipped up his bag and slipped a cigarette out of the ornate silver case which he lit with a flourish. 

Spencer doodled idly on the note the girl had left him, he gave the face devil horns and corrected the poor spelling. He was still hungry and decided that his mood could only be elevated by a hot meal. Taking a long drag, he stubbed his cigarette out and sets off in search of an eatery.