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Thirty-nine steps
I
returned
from
the
City
about
three
o'clock
on
that
May
afternoon
pretty
well
disgusted
with
life
.
I
had
been
three
months
in
the
Old
Country
,
and
was
fed
up
with
it
.
If
anyone
had
told
me
a
year
ago
that
I
would
have
been
feeling
like
that
I
should
have
laughed
at
him
;
but
there
was
the
fact
.
The
weather
made
me
liverish
,
the
talk
of
the
ordinary
Englishman
made
me
sick
.
I
could
n't
get
enough
exercise
,
and
the
amusements
of
London
seemed
as
flat
as
soda-water
that
has
been
standing
in
the
sun
.
"
Richard
Hannay
,
"
I
kept
telling
myself
,
"
you
have
got
into
the
wrong
ditch
,
my
friend
,
and
you
had
better
climb
out
.
"
It
made
me
bite
my
lips
to
think
of
the
plans
I
had
been
building
up
those
last
years
in
Buluwayo
.
I
had
got
my
pile
--
not
one
of
the
big
ones
,
but
good
enough
for
me
;
and
I
had
figured
out
all
kinds
of
ways
of
enjoying
myself
.
My
father
had
brought
me
out
from
Scotland
at
the
age
of
six
,
and
I
had
never
been
home
since
;
so
England
was
a
sort
of
Arabian
Nights
to
me
,
and
I
counted
on
stopping
there
for
the
rest
of
my
days
.
But
from
the
first
I
was
disappointed
with
it
.
In
about
a
week
I
was
tired
of
seeing
sights
,
and
in
less
than
a
month
I
had
had
enough
of
restaurants
and
theatres
and
race-meetings
.
I
had
no
real
pal
to
go
about
with
,
which
probably
explains
things
.
Plenty
of
people
invited
me
to
their
houses
,
but
they
did
n't
seem
much
interested
in
me
.
They
would
fling
me
a
question
or
two
about
South
Africa
,
and
then
get
on
to
their
own
affairs
.
A
lot
of
Imperialist
ladies
asked
me
to
tea
to
meet
schoolmasters
from
New
Zealand
and
editors
from
Vancouver
,
and
that
was
the
dismalest
business
of
all
.
Here
was
I
,
thirty-seven
years
old
,
sound
in
wind
and
limb
,
with
enough
money
to
have
a
good
time
,
yawning
my
head
off
all
day
.
I
had
just
about
settled
to
clear
out
and
get
back
to
the
veld
,
for
I
was
the
best
bored
man
in
the
United
Kingdom
.
That
afternoon
I
had
been
worrying
my
brokers
about
investments
to
give
my
mind
something
to
work
on
,
and
on
my
way
home
I
turned
into
my
club
--
rather
a
pot-house
,
which
took
in
Colonial
members
.
I
had
a
long
drink
,
and
read
the
evening
papers
.
They
were
full
of
the
row
in
the
Near
East
,
and
there
was
an
article
about
Karolides
,
the
Greek
Premier
.
I
rather
fancied
the
chap
.
From
all
accounts
he
seemed
the
one
big
man
in
the
show
;
and
he
played
a
straight
game
too
,
which
was
more
than
could
be
said
for
most
of
them
.
I
gathered
that
they
hated
him
pretty
blackly
in
Berlin
and
Vienna
,
but
that
we
were
going
to
stick
by
him
,
and
one
paper
said
that
he
was
the
only
barrier
between
Europe
and
Armageddon
.
I
remember
wondering
if
I
could
get
a
job
in
those
parts
.
It
struck
me
that
Albania
was
the
sort
of
place
that
might
keep
a
man
from
yawning
.
About
six
o'clock
I
went
home
,
dressed
,
dined
at
the
Café
Royal
,
and
turned
into
a
music-hall
.
It
was
a
silly
show
,
all
capering
women
and
monkey-faced
men
,
and
I
did
not
stay
long
.
The
night
was
fine
and
clear
as
I
walked
back
to
the
flat
I
had
hired
near
Portland
Place
.
The
crowd
surged
past
me
on
the
pavements
,
busy
and
chattering
,
and
I
envied
the
people
for
having
something
to
do
.
These
shop-girls
and
clerks
and
dandies
and
policemen
had
some
interest
in
life
that
kept
them
going
.
I
gave
half-a-crown
to
a
beggar
because
I
saw
him
yawn
;
he
was
a
fellow-sufferer
.
At
Oxford
Circus
I
looked
up
into
the
spring
sky
and
I
made
a
vow
.
I
would
give
the
Old
Country
another
day
to
fit
me
into
something
;
if
nothing
happened
,
I
would
take
the
next
boat
for
the
Cape
.
My
flat
was
the
first
floor
in
a
new
block
behind
Langham
Place
.
There
was
a
common
staircase
,
with
a
porter
and
a
liftman
at
the
entrance
,
but
there
was
no
restaurant
or
anything
of
that
sort
,
and
each
flat
was
quite
shut
off
from
the
others
.
I
hate
servants
on
the
premises
,
so
I
had
a
fellow
to
look
after
me
who
came
in
by
the
day
.
He
arrived
before
eight
o'clock
every
morning
and
used
to
depart
at
seven
,
for
I
never
dined
at
home
.
I
was
just
fitting
my
key
into
the
door
when
I
noticed
a
man
at
my
elbow
.
I
had
not
seen
him
approach
,
and
the
sudden
appearance
made
me
start
.
He
was
a
slim
man
,
with
a
short
brown
beard
and
small
,
gimlety
blue
eyes
.
I
recognized
him
as
the
occupant
of
a
flat
on
the
top
floor
,
with
whom
I
had
passed
the
time
of
day
on
the
stairs
.
"
Can
I
speak
to
you
?
"
he
said
.
"
May
I
come
in
for
a
minute
?
"
He
was
steadying
his
voice
with
an
effort
,
and
his
hand
was
pawing
my
arm
.
