t and as
soundless. There was a swirl outside the window, rain tossed by the
wind; without noticing, I saw it, and my brain swung with the rain until
it heaved in circles, and then a feeling of faintness awakened me to
myself. I did not allow my mind to think, but now and again a word
swooped from immense distances through my brain, swinging like a comet
across a sky and jarring terribly when it struck: 'Sacked' was one word,
'Old' was another word.

"I don't know how long I sat watching the flight of these dreadful words
and listening to their clanking impact, but a movement in the street
aroused me. Two people, the girl and a young, slender man, were coming
slowly up to the house. The rain was falling heavily, but they did not
seem to mind it. There was a big puddle of water close to the kerb, and
the girl, stepping daintily as a cat, went round this, but the young man
stood for a moment beyond it. He raised both arms, clenched his fists,
swung them, and jumped over the puddle. Then he and the girl stood
looking at the water, apparently measuring the jump. I could see them
plainly by a street lamp. They were bidding each other good-bye. The
girl put her hand to his neck and settled the collar of his coat, and
while her hand rested on him the young man suddenly and violently flung
his arms about her and hugged her; then they kissed and moved apart. The
man walked to the rain puddle and stood there with his face turned back
laughing at her, and then he jumped straight into the middle of the
puddle and began to dance up and down in it, the muddy water splashing
up to his knees. She ran over to him crying 'Stop, silly!' When she came
into the house, I bolted my door and I gave no answer to her knock.

"In a few months the money I had saved was spent. I couldn't get any
work, I was too old; they put it that they wanted a younger man. I
couldn't pay my rent. I went out into the world again, like a baby,
an old baby in a new world. I stole food, food, food anywhere and
everywhere. At first I was always caught. Often I was sent to gaol;
sometimes I was let go; sometimes I was kicked; but I learned to live
like a wolf at last. I am not often caught now when I steal food. But
there is something happening every day, whether it is going to gaol or
planning how to steal a hen or a loaf of bread. I find that it is a good
life, much better than the one I lived for nearly sixty years, and I
have time to think over every sort of thin