As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. ’ Gerald knew the caress in his voice was a trifle ironic. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. The latch came with a weak click. “Very well,” he said, “I will go. I have been very foolish, but it is over. . He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. . A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. “For luck. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies.
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