im still a
sense of the foulness of Livermore's Rents and wanted something to
counteract it. Eau-de-Cologne is a great sweetener.

CHAPTER II

A JOURNEY IN THE TWOPENNY TUBE. A VERY NICE GIRL, AND A NEGOTIATION.
AN EXPOSED WIRE, AND AN ELECTROCUTION

He took his fare in the Twopenny Tube. It was the last twopence but
one that he had in his pocket. Something fascinated him in the idea of
commanding, in exchange for that twopence, the power of alighting at
any point between Cheapside and Shepherd's Bush. Which should it be?

If he could only make up his mind to _not_ alighting at Chancery Lane,
he would have two whole minutes for consideration. If British Museum
he would have four. If Tottenham Court Road, six--and so on. For the
time being he was a sort of monarch, in a small way, over Time and
Space. He would go on to the Museum, at any rate.

What little things life hangs on, sometimes! If he had foolishly got
out at either Chancery Lane or British Museum, there either would have
been no reason for writing this story; or, if written, it would have
been quite different. For at the Museum Station a girl got into the
carriage; and, passing him on her way to a central haven of rest, trod
on his foot, with severity. It hurt, so palpably, that the girl begged
his pardon. She was a nice girl, and sorry.

He forgave her because she was a nice girl, with beautiful rows of
teeth and merry eyebrows. He might have forgiven her if she had been
a dowdy. But he liked forgiving those teeth, and those eyebrows.

So when she sat down in the haven, close to his left shoulder, he
wasn't sorry that his remark that _he_ ought to beg _her_ pardon,
because it was all his fault for sticking out, overlapped her coming
to an anchor. If it had been got through quicker, the incident would
have been regarded as closed. As it was, the fag-end of it was
unexhausted, and she didn't quite catch the whole. It was in no way
unnatural that she should turn her head slightly, and say: "I beg
your pardon." Absolute silence would have been almost discourteous,
after plunging on to what might have been a bad corn.

"I only meant it was my fault for jamming up the whole gangway."

"Oh yes--but it was my fault all the same--for--for----"

"Yes--I beg your pardon? You were going to say--for----?"

"Well--I mean--for standing on it so long, then! If you had called
out--but indeed I didn't think it was a foot. I thought it was
something in th