curious part about it. He had little thought of starting the game
until, in one week, he lost his wife and, through the failure of a
firm, his employment. Then it seemed to him nothing mattered, and
another out-of-work made a suggestion, and he fell into it, was caught,
and his friend managed to get away.

"When I came out," he went on, "I found I'd lost all respect for
myself, and I assumed everybody else had lost all respect for me. I
tell you, it isn't a hard task to go down in this world. I've no
business to complain, but there it is; plenty can help you in that
direction, but there's very few capable of assisting you to pick
yourself up."

"It's not too late to make a change."

"I've got no luck, you see," he explained patiently. "This summer I
did nearly get back to what you may call the old style. I was in a
reg'lar job; I contrived to dress myself up almost like a duke, and I
sets out on Sunday afternoon with the full intention of calling on some
old friends I hadn't seen for a good many years. It didn't come off."

"Drink, I suppose."

"Yes," he said. "A chap driving one of these motors had taken a drop
too much. I was in St. Mary's in Praed Street for over six weeks. If
it had been anybody but me, the car would have been driven by some
well-to-do gentleman, and I should have found myself compensated for
life. As I say, I never did have my share of good fortune, and I
s'pose I never shall. All I haven't had of that, I hope will be passed
on to my daughter."

"She ought to do something for you."

"I don't want her to. I've no wish to interfere with her. I can't
flatter myself I've done her any good, and I'd like to have the
satisfaction of feeling I've done her no harm. Here, I think," looking
around him, "we say oh revor."

Gertie took out her purse; he gave an emphatic shake of the head, and
went.

The next night he was at the same place, improved in appearance, and
Gertie allowed him to accompany her along Marylebone Road so far as
Harley Street. On the following evening he furnished an escort to
Upper Baker Street, and afterwards extended the journey. His manner
was always respectful, and he still made no attempt to walk abreast
with her. Sometimes a constable would say, "Hullo, Joe!" and he
replied, "Good evening, sir. Not bad weather for the time of year!"
and going on, informed Gertie where, and in what circumstances, the
acquaintance had been made.

It happened, on one