dwell for a moment upon his wealth, on the years which had gone to
the winning of it, on a certain nameless day, the memory of which
even now sent sometimes the blood running colder through his veins,
on the weaker men who had gone under that he might prosper. Now
that it was his, he wanted the best possible value for it; it was
the natural desire of the man to be uppermost in the bargain. The
delights of the world behind, it seemed to him that he had already
drained. The crushing of his rivals, the homage of his less
successful competitors, the grosser pleasures of wine, the
music-halls, and the unlimited spending of money amongst people
whom he despised had long since palled upon him. He had a keen,
strong desire to escape once and for ever from his surroundings.
He lounged along, smoking a large cigar, keen-eyed and observant,
laying up for himself a store of impressions, unconsciously
irritated at every step by a sense of ostracism, of being in some
indefinable manner without kinship and wholly apart from this world,
in which it seemed natural now that he should find some place. He
gazed at the great houses without respect or envy, at the men with
a fierce contempt, at the women with a sore feeling that if by
chance he should be brought into contact with any of them they
would regard him as a sort of wild animal, to be hurnoured or
avoided purely as a matter of self-interest. The very brightness
and brilliancy of their toilettes, the rustling of their dresses,
the trim elegance and daintiness which he was able to appreciate
without being able to understand, only served to deepen his
consciousness of the gulf which lay between him and them. They
were of a world to which, even if he were permitted to enter it,
he could not possibly belong. He returned such glances as fell
upon him with fierce insolence; he was indeed somewhat of a
strange figure in his ill-fitting and inappropriate clothes amongst