I stared at him for a moment, and then got off the stile.

We stood swaying and then came forward with a weak motion of his arms

like a man who cannot see distinctly, and caught at and leant upon the

stile. For a moment we were absolutely still. He made a clumsy gesture

towards the great futility below and choked. I discovered that his face

was wet with tears, that his wet glasses blinded him. He put up his

little fat hand and clawed them off clumsily, felt inefficiently for

his pocket-handkerchief, and then, to my horror, as he clung to me, he

began to weep aloud, this little, old worldworn swindler. It wasn’t

just sobbing or shedding tears, it was crying as a child cries. It was

oh! terrible!

“It’s cruel,” he blubbered at last. “They asked me questions. They

_kep_’ asking me questions, George.”

He sought for utterance, and spluttered.

“The Bloody bullies!” he shouted. “The Bloody Bullies.”

He ceased to weep. He became suddenly rapid and explanatory.

“It’s not a fair game, George. They tire you out. And I’m not well. My

stomach’s all wrong. And I been and got a cold. I always been li’ble to

cold, and this one’s on my chest. And then they tell you to speak up.

They bait you—and bait you, and bait you. It’s torture. The strain of

it. You can’t remember what you said. You’re bound to contradict

yourself. It’s like Russia, George.... It isn’t fair play.... Prominent

man. I’ve been next at dinners with that chap, Neal; I’ve told him

stories—and he’s bitter! Sets out to ruin me. Don’t ask a civil

question—bellows.” He broke down again. “I’ve been bellowed at, I been

bullied, I been treated like a dog. Dirty cads they are! Dirty cads!

I’d rather be a Three-Card Sharper than a barrister; I’d rather sell

cat’s-meat in the streets.

“They sprung things on me this morning, things I didn’t expect. They

rushed me! I’d got it all in my hands and then I was jumped. By Neal!

Neal I’ve given city tips to! Neal! I’ve helped Neal....

“I couldn’t swallow a mouthful—not in the lunch hour. I couldn’t face

it. It’s true, George—I couldn’t face it. I said I’d get a bit of air

and slipped out and down to the Embankment, and there I took a boat to

Richmond. Some idee. I took a rowing boat when I got there and I rowed

about on the river for a bit. A lot of chaps and girls there was on the

bank laughed at my shirt-sleeves and top hat. Dessay they thought it

was a pleasure trip. Fat lot of pleasure! I rowed round for a bit and

came in. Then I came on here. Windsor way. And there they are in London

doing what they like with me.... I don’t care!”

“But” I said, looking down at him, perplexed.

“It’s abscondin’. They’ll have a warrant.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“It’s all up, George—all up and over.

“And I thought I’d live in that place, George and die a lord! It’s a

great place, reely, an imperial—if anyone has the sense to buy it and

finish it. That terrace—”

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