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I
was
saved
to
the
extent
of
sixpence
--
a
white
sixpence
of
Kongsberg
silver
.
The
bank
closed
at
six
;
I
could
watch
for
my
man
outside
the
Opland
Café
between
seven
and
eight
.
I
sat
,
and
was
for
a
long
time
pleased
with
this
thought
.
Time
went
.
The
wind
blew
lustily
through
the
chestnut
trees
around
me
,
and
the
day
declined
.
After
all
,
was
it
not
rather
petty
to
come
slinking
up
with
six
shaving
-
tickets
to
a
young
gentleman
holding
a
good
position
in
a
bank
?
Perhaps
,
he
had
already
a
book
,
maybe
two
,
quite
full
of
spick
and
span
tickets
,
a
contrast
to
the
crumpled
ones
I
held
.
Who
could
tell
?
I
felt
in
all
my
pockets
for
anything
else
I
could
let
go
with
them
,
but
found
nothing
.
If
I
could
only
offer
him
my
tie
?
I
could
well
do
without
it
if
I
buttoned
my
coat
tightly
up
,
which
,
by
the
way
,
I
was
already
obliged
to
do
,
as
I
had
no
waistcoat
.
I
untied
it
--
it
was
a
large
overlapping
bow
which
hid
half
my
chest
,
--
brushed
it
carefully
,
and
folded
it
up
in
a
piece
of
clean
white
writing-paper
,
together
with
the
tickets
.
Then
I
left
the
churchyard
and
took
the
road
leading
to
the
Opland
.
It
was
seven
by
the
Town
Hall
clock
.
I
walked
up
and
down
hard
by
the
café
,
kept
close
to
the
iron
railings
,
and
kept
a
sharp
watch
on
all
who
went
in
and
came
out
of
the
door
.
At
last
,
about
eight
o'clock
,
I
saw
the
young
fellow
,
fresh
,
elegantly
dressed
,
coming
up
the
hill
and
across
to
the
cafe
door
.
My
heart
fluttered
like
a
little
bird
in
my
breast
as
I
caught
sight
of
him
,
and
I
blurted
out
,
without
even
a
greeting
:
"
Sixpence
,
old
friend
!
"
I
said
,
putting
on
cheek
;
"
here
is
the
worth
of
it
,
"
and
I
thrust
the
little
packet
into
his
hand
.
"
Have
n't
got
it
,
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
God
knows
if
I
have
!
"
and
he
turned
his
purse
inside
out
right
before
my
eyes
.
"
I
was
out
last
night
and
got
totally
cleared
out
!
You
must
believe
me
,
I
literally
have
n't
got
it
.
"
"
No
,
no
,
my
dear
fellow
;
I
suppose
it
is
so
,
"
I
answered
,
and
I
took
his
word
for
it
.
There
was
,
indeed
,
no
reason
why
he
should
lie
about
such
a
trifling
matter
.
It
struck
me
,
too
,
that
his
blue
eyes
were
moist
whilst
he
ransacked
his
pockets
and
found
nothing
.
I
drew
back
.
"
Excuse
me
,
"
I
said
;
"
it
was
only
just
that
I
was
a
bit
hard
up
.
"
I
was
already
a
piece
down
the
street
,
when
he
called
after
me
about
the
little
packet
.
"
Keep
it
!
keep
it
,
"
I
answered
;
"
you
are
welcome
to
it
.
There
are
only
a
few
trifles
in
it
--
a
bagatelle
;
about
all
I
own
in
the
world
,
"
and
I
became
so
touched
at
my
own
words
,
they
sounded
so
pathetic
in
the
twilight
,
that
I
fell
a-weeping
...
.
The
wind
freshened
,
the
clouds
chased
madly
across
the
heavens
,
and
it
grew
cooler
and
cooler
as
it
got
darker
.
I
walked
,
and
cried
as
I
walked
,
down
the
whole
street
;
felt
more
and
more
commiseration
with
myself
,
and
repeated
,
time
after
time
,
a
few
words
,
an
ejaculation
,
which
called
forth
fresh
tears
whenever
they
were
on
the
point
of
ceasing
:
"
Lord
God
,
I
feel
so
wretched
!
Lord
God
,
I
feel
so
wretched
!
"
An
hour
passed
;
passed
with
such
strange
slowness
,
such
weariness
.
