more to his taste. The pleasures which
sufficed to keep him from home had the same sordid monotony which characterises
life in general for the lower strata of society. If he had money, there was the
music-hall; if he had none, there were the streets. Being in the latter
condition to-night, he joined a company of male and female intimates, and with
them strolled aimlessly from one familiar rendezvous to another. Would that it
were possible to set down a literal report of the conversation which passed
during hours thus spent! Much of it, of course, would be merely revolting, but
for the most part it would consist of such wearying, such incredible
imbecilities as no human patience could endure through five minutes' perusal.
Realise it, however, and you grasp the conditions of what is called the social
problem. As regards Robert Hewett in particular, it would help you to understand
the momentous change in his life which was just coming to pass.
    On his reaching home at eleven o'clock, Pennyloaf met him with the news that
Jack Bartley had looked in twice and seemed very anxious to see him. To-morrow
being Saturday, Jack would call again early in the afternoon. When the time
came, he presented himself, hungry and dirty as ever, but with an unwonted
liveliness in his eye.
    »I've got something to say to you,« be began, in a low voice, nodding
significantly towards Pennyloaf.
    »Go and buy what you want for to-morrow,« said Bob to his wife, giving her
some money out of his wages. »Take the kids.«
    Disappointed in being thus excluded from confidence, but obedient as ever,
Pennyloaf speedily prepared herself and the children, the younger of whom she
still had to carry. When she was gone Mr. Bartley assumed a peculiar attitude
and began to speak in an undertone.
    »You know that medal as you gave me the other night?«
    »What about it?«
    »I sold it for fourpence to a chap I know. It got me a bed at the lodgings
in Pentonville Road.«
    »Oh, you did! Well, what else?«
    Jack was writhing in the most unaccountable way, peering hither and thither
out of the corners of his eyes, seeming to have an obstruction in his throat.
    »It was in a public-house as I sold it - a chap I know. There was another
chap as I didn't know standing just by - see? He kep' looking at the medal, and
he kep'