Though you won't have me at any price,
I think you would pity if I told you of some of the holes to
which I have crept to sleep.
"I suppose--and now I think of it, I might have borrowed some
comfort from the thought--I suppose that all the while, being
rich, Farrell had hired eyes to watch me. It is certain that he
ran across me--always at night, and always in evening dress.
Once, on the Embankment, as I was coiling on a bench, he came
down from the Savoy and along, bringing his dog for a walk.
The dog scented me and growled; but I lay out stiff, pretending
to sleep.
"Even when it came to a Salvation Army shelter, we were disturbed
by a company of the benevolent; Farrell one of them, in a furred
coat with an astrachan collar. He saw me stretched there with
closed eyes, and said that one half of the world never knows how
the other half lives.
"It was going like that with me when the War broke out.
Then--broken, beaten, and in rags--I put all pride in my pocket,
walked across the bridge to Silversmiths' College, rang in on
Travers, and demanded a job.
Pages:
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499