nothing else for it but bluff. As I went to the door Allen rose too, and said
that the man who had offered him the money was out of town. I turned to him
and said:

"'He will no doubt return, and I don't care for the letter at all.'

"At this Allen changed his manner, said he was very poor, he hadn't a penny in
the world, and had spent a lot trying to find me and tell me about the letter.
I told him I did not mind relieving his distress, and gave him half a sovereign,
assuring him at the same time that the letter would shortly be published as a
sonnet in a delightful magazine. I went to the door with him, and he walked
away. I closed the door; but didn't shut it at once, for suddenly I heard a
policeman's step coming softly towards my house--pad, pad! A dreadful moment,
then he passed by. I went into the room again all shaken, wondering whether
I had done right, whether Allen would hawk the letter about--a thousand vague
apprehensions.

"Suddenly a knock at the street door. My heart was in my mouth, still I went
and opened it: a man named Cliburn was there.

"'I have come to you with a letter of Allen's.'

"'I cannot be bothered any more,' I cried, 'about that letter; I don't care
twopence about it. Let him do what he likes with it.'

"To my astonishment Cliburn said:

"'Allen has asked me to give it back to you,' and he produced it.

"'Why does he give it back to me?' I asked carelessly.