n
a promise to do more than think.

The long, slouching strides with which he went up from the Embankment
to the Strand gave him the appearance of a man partly overcome with
drink. For hours he walked about the City, in complete oblivion of
everything external. Only when the lights began to shine from
shop-windows did he consciously turn to his own district. It was
raining now. The splashes of cool moisture made him aware how
feverishly hot his face was.

When he got among the familiar streets he went slinkingly, hurrying
round corners, avoiding glances. Almost at a run he turned into Merlin
Place, and he burst into his room as though he were pursued.

Pennyloaf had now but one child to look after, a girl of two years, a
feeble thing. Her own state was wretched; professedly recovered from
illness, she felt so weak, so low-spirited, that the greater part of
her day was spent in crying. The least exertion was too much for her;
but for frequent visits from Jane Snowdon she must have perished for
very lack of wholesome food. She was crying when startled by her
husband's entrance, and though she did her best to hide the signs of
it, Bob saw.

'When are you going to stop that?' he shouted.

She shrank away, looking at him with fear in her red eyes.

'Stop your snivelling, and get me some tea!'

It was only of late that Pennyloaf had come to regard him with fear.
His old indifference and occasional brutality of language had made her
life a misery, but she had never looked for his return home with
anything but anxious longing. Now the anticipation was mingled with
dread. He not only had no care for her, not only showed that he felt
her a burden upon him; his disposition now was one of hatred, and the
kind of hatred which sooner or later breaks out in ferocity. Bob would
not have come to this pass--at all events not so soon--if he had been
left to the dictates of his own nature; he was infected by the savagery
of the woman who had taken possession of him. Her lust of cruelty crept
upon him like a disease, the progress of which was hastened by all the
circumstances of his disorderly life. The man was conscious of his
degradation; he knew how he had fallen ever since he began criminal
practices; he knew the increasing hopelessness of his resolves to have
done with dangers and recover his peace of mind. The loss of his daily
work, in consequence of irregularity, was the last thing needed to
complete his ruin. He did not ev