reasoning; he let himself go whither his moods propelled him. Not a man
of evil propensities; entertain no such thought for a moment. Society
produces many a monster, but the mass of those whom, after creating
them, it pronounces bad are merely bad from the conventional point of
view; they are guilty of weaknesses, not of crimes. Bob was not
incapable of generosity; his marriage had, in fact, implied more of
that quality than you in the upper world can at all appreciate. He
neglected his wife, of course, for he had never loved her, and the
burden of her support was too great a trial for his selfishness.
Weakness, vanity, a sense that he has not satisfactions proportionate
to his desert, a strong temptation--here are the data which, in
ordinary cases, explain a man's deliberate attempt to profit by
criminality.

In a short time Pennyloaf began to be aware of peculiarities of
behaviour in her husband for which she could not account. Though there
appeared no necessity for the step, he insisted on their once more
seeking new lodgings, and, before the removal, he destroyed all his
medals and moulds.

'What's that for, Bob?' Pennyloaf inquired.

'I'll tell you, and mind you hold your tongue about it. Somebody's been
saying as these things might get me into trouble. Just you be careful
not to mention to people that I used to make these kind of things.'

'But why should it get you into trouble?'

'Mind what I tell you, and don't ask questions. You're always too ready
at talking.'

His absences of an evening were nothing new, but his manner on
returning was such as Pennyloaf had never seen in him. He appeared to
be suffering from some intense excitement; his hands were unsteady; he
showed the strangest nervousness if there were any unusual sounds in
the house. Then he certainly obtained money of which his wife did not
know the source; he bought new articles of clothing, and in explanation
said that he had won bets. Pennyloaf remarked these things with
uneasiness; she had a fear during her lonely evenings for which she
could give no reason. Poor slowwitted mortal though she was, a devoted
fidelity attached her to her husband, and quickened wonderfully her
apprehension in everything that concerned him.

'Miss Snowdon came to-day, Bob,' she had said, about a week after his
order with regard to Jane.

'Oh, she did? And did you tell her she'd better keep away?'

'Yes,' was the dispirited answer.

'Glad to hear it.'