pocket than he cared to think about.

A thin gray fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for
summer was in England.

'It's a cheerful wilderness, and it hasn't the knack of altering much,' Dick
thought, as he tramped from the Docks westward. 'Now, what must I
do?'

The packed houses gave no answer. Dick looked down the long lightless
streets and at the appalling rush of traffic. 'Oh, you rabbit-hutches!' said
he, addressing a row of highly respectable semi-detached residences. 'Do
you know what you've got to do later on? You have to supply me with
men-servants and maid-servants,'--here he smacked his lips,--'and the
peculiar treasure of kings. Meantime I'll clothes and boots, and presently
I will return and trample on you.' He stepped forward energetically; he
saw that one of his shoes was burst at the side. As he stooped to make
investigations, a man jostled him into the gutter. 'All right,' he said.

'That's another nick in the score. I'll jostle you later on.'

Good clothes and boots are not cheap, and Dick left his last shop with the
certainty that he would be respectably arrayed for a time, but with only
fifty shillings in his pocket. He returned to streets by the Docks, and
lodged himself in one room, where the sheets on the bed were almost
audibly marked in case of theft, and where nobody seemed to go to bed at
all. When his clothes arrived he sought the Central Southern Syndicate
for Torpenhow's address, and got it, with the intimation that there was
still some money waiting for him.