"You've a right good gold watch, Mr. Lauriston," she answered. "Any
pawnbroker--and there's plenty of 'em, I'm sure!--'ud lend you a few
pounds on that. Perhaps you've never had occasion to go to a pawnbroker
before? No?--well, and I hadn't once upon a time, but I've had to, whether
or no, since I came to letting lodgings, and if I'd as good a watch as
yours is, I wouldn't go without money in my pocket! If you've money coming
in, you can always get your goods back--and I should be thankful for
something, Mr. Lauriston, if it was but a couple o' pounds. My landlord's
that hard--"

Lauriston turned and picked up his hat.

"All right, Mrs. Flitwick," he said quietly. "I'll see what I can do. I--
I'd never even thought of it."

When the woman had gone away, closing the door behind her, he pulled the
watch out of his pocket and looked at it--an old-fashioned, good, gold
watch, which had been his father's. No doubt a pawnbroker would lend money
on it. But until then he had never had occasion to think of pawnbrokers.
He had come to London nearly two years before, intending to make name,
fame, and fortune by his pen. He had a little money to be going on with--
when he came. It had dwindled steadily, and it had been harder to replace
it than he had calculated for. And at last there he was, in that cheap
lodging, and at the end of his resources, and the cheque for his first two
accepted stories had not arrived. Neither had a loan which, sorely against
his will, he had been driven to request from the only man he could think
of--an old schoolmate, far away in Scotland. He had listened for the
postman's knock, hoping it would bring relief, for four long days--and not
one letter had come, and he was despairing and heartsick. But--there was
the watch!