ye, sir; I'll be sure to come"; and,
snatching at his battered hat, he toilsomely secreted Shelton's card
amongst his character. A minute later he began again to nod.

The policeman passed a second time; his gaze seemed to say, "Now, what's
a toff doing on that seat with those two rotters?" And Shelton caught
his eye.

"Ah!" he thought; "exactly! You don't know what to make of me--a man of
my position sitting here! Poor devil! to spend your days in spying on
your fellow-creatures! Poor devil! But you don't know that you 're a
poor devil, and so you 're not one."

The man on the next bench sneezed--a shrill and disapproving sneeze.

The policeman passed again, and, seeing that the lower creatures were
both dozing, he spoke to Shelton:

"Not very safe on these 'ere benches, sir," he said; "you never know who
you may be sittin' next to. If I were you, sir, I should be gettin'
on--if you 're not goin' to spend the night here, that is"; and he
laughed, as at an admirable joke.

Shelton looked at him, and itched to say, "Why shouldn't I?" but it
struck him that it would sound very odd. "Besides," he thought, "I shall
only catch a cold"; and, without speaking, he left the seat, and went
along towards his rooms.

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE END

He reached his rooms at midnight so exhausted that, without waiting to
light up, he dropped into a chair. The curtains and blinds had been
removed for cleaning, and the tall windows admitted the night's staring
gaze. Shelton fixed his eyes on that outside darkness, as one lost man
might fix his eyes upon another.

An unaired, dusty odour clung about the room, but, like some God-sent
whiff of grass or flowers wafted to one sometimes in the streets, a
perfume came to him, the spice from the withered clove carnation still
clinging, to his button-hole; and he suddenly awoke from his queer
trance. There was a decision to be made. He rose to light a candle; the
dust was thick on everything he touched. "Ugh!" he thought, "how
wretched!" and the loneliness that had seized him on the stone seat at
Holm Oaks the day before returned with fearful force.

On his table, heaped without order, were a pile of bills and circulars.
He opened them, tearing at their covers with the random haste of men back
from their holidays. A single long envelope was placed apart.

MY DEAR DICK [he read],

I enclose you herewith the revised draft of your marriage settlement.
It is now ship