And what
a figure of rags--one shoulder higher than the other, one leg a
little lame, and thin! A surge of feeling came up in Laurence for this
creature, more unfortunate than himself. There were lower depths than
his!
"Well, brother," he said, "you don't look too prosperous!"
The smile which gleamed out on the man's face seemed as unlikely as a
smile on a scarecrow.
"Prosperity doesn't come my way," he said in a rusty voice. "I'm a
failure--always been a failure. And yet you wouldn't think it, would
you?--I was a minister of religion once."
Laurence held out a shilling. But the man shook his head.
"Keep your money," he said. "I've got more than you to-day, I daresay.
But thank you for taking a little interest. That's worth more than money
to a man that's down."
"You're right."
"Yes," the rusty voice went on; "I'd as soon die as go on living as
I do. And now I've lost my self-respect. Often wondered how long a
starving man could go without losing his self-respect. Not so very long.
You take my word for that." And without the slightest change in the
monotony of that creaking voice he added:
"Did you read of the murder? Just here.
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