Divide the money, please, among
two or three of your most deserving pensioners; or, if you see fit,
give it all to one. I cling to the hope that we may see you at
Lucerne.--With very kind regards.
The cheque was for five pounds. Mr. Tymperley held it up by the window, and
gazed at it. By his present standards of value five pounds seemed a very
large sum. Think of what one could do with it! His boots--which had been
twice repaired--would not decently serve him much longer. His trousers were
in the last stage of presentability. The hat he wore (how carefully
tended!) was the same in which he had come to London three years ago. He
stood in need, verily, of a new equipment from head to foot; and in
Islington five pounds would more than cover the whole expense. When, pray,
was he likely to have such a sum at his free disposal?
He sighed deeply, and stared about him in the dusk.
The cheque was crossed. For the first time in his life Mr. Tymperley
perceived that the crossing of a cheque may occasion its recipient a great
deal of trouble. How was he to get it changed? He knew his landlord for a
suspicious curmudgeon, and refusal of the favour, with such a look as Mr.
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