The bitterest critic could not say that he
had made a halfpenny out of the venture, in fact, if trouble came, his
voluntary abandonment of the profits due to him must go to his credit.
He had plunged into the icy waters of renunciation and come up clean if
naked. Never since he was a boy could Alan remember feeling so utterly
light-hearted and free from anxiety. Not for a million pounds would he
have returned to gather gold in that mausoleum of reputations. As for
the future, he did not in the least care what happened. There was no
one dependent on him, and in this way or in that he could always earn a
crust, a nice, honest crust.
He ran down the street and danced for joy like a child, yes, and
presented a crossing-sweeper against whom he butted with a whole
sixpence in compensation. Thus he reached the Mansion House, not
unsuspected of inebriety by the police, and clambered to the top of a
bus crowded with weary and anxious-looking City clerks returning home
after a long day's labour at starvation wage. In that cold company and
a chilling atmosphere some of his enthusiasm evaporated. He remembered
that this step of his meant that sooner or later, within a year or two
at most, Yarleys, where his family had dwelt for centuries, must go to
the hammer.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51