shillings, Mrs. Bunting!"

He thrust his hand through into an inner pocket of his long
cape-like coat and took out a handful of sovereigns. Then he began
putting these down in a row on the bare wooden table which stood in
the centre of the room. "Here's five--six--seven--eight--nine
--ten pounds. You'd better keep the odd change, Mrs. Bunting,
for I shall want you to do some shopping for me to-morrow morning.
I met with a misfortune to-day." But the new lodger did not speak
as if his misfortune, whatever it was, weighed on his spirits.

"Indeed, sir. I'm sorry to hear that." Mrs. Bunting's heart was
going thump--thump--thump. She felt extraordinarily moved, dizzy
with relief and joy.

"Yes, a very great misfortune! I lost my luggage, the few things
I managed to bring away with me." His voice dropped suddenly. "I
shouldn't have said that," he muttered. "I was a fool to say that!"
Then, more loudly, "Someone said to me, 'You can't go into a
lodging-house without any luggage. They wouldn't take you in.' But
you have taken me in, Mrs. Bunting, and I'm grateful for--for the
kind way you have met me--" He looked at her feelingly, appealingly,
and Mrs. Bunting was touched. She was beginning to feel very kindly
towards her new lodger.

"I hope I know a gentleman when I see one," she said, with a break
in her staid voice.

"I shall have to see about getting some clothes to-morrow, Mrs. Bunting."
Again he looked at her appealingly.