The Spectator., 1915-02-19

fate had ruthlessly scratched from his book of days.
 MT. Hooghly had already started off toward the town, the kit bag and the valise slung across his shoulders, the parrot cage bobbing at his side. He knew where to go; an obscure lodging for men in the heart of the business section, known in jest by the dere- licts as the Stranded.
 Warrington, becoming suddenly aware that his pose, if prolonged, would become ridiculous, put on his helmet and proceeded to the Bank of Burma. Today was Wednesday; Thursday week he would sail for Sin gapore and close the chapter. Before banking hours were over his financial affairs were put in order, and he walked forth with two letters of credit and enough banknotes and gold to carry him around the world if he so planned. Next he visited pawnshop and laid down a dozen mutilated tickets, receiving in return a hand some watch, emerald cuff buttons. some stickpins, some pearls and a beautiful old ruby ring, a gift of the young maharajah of Udaipur The an cient Chinaman smiled. This was rare occasion. Men generally went out of his dark and dingy shop and nevermore returned
 Much money Can do now?" affably.
 dn INa ri c1i in ping the treasures into pocket What struggle it had been to hold them! Somehow or other he had always been able to meet the interest, though, often to accomplish this feat he had been forced to go without tobacco for weeks
 There is vein of superstition in all of us, deny it how we will. Warning ton was as certain of the fact as he was of the rising and the setting of the sun. that if he lost these heir looms he never could go back to the old, familiar world, the world in which he had moved and lived and known | happiness. Never again would he part with them A hundred thousand dol | lars, almost; with his simple wants. he was now rich man
 Buy ling?" asked the Chnaman. He rolled a mandarin's ring carelessly across the showcase. Gold; all heavy; velly old, velly good ling"
 What does it say?" asked Warning | ton. pointing to the characters
 Good luck and plospelity; velly good signs
 It was an unusually beautiful ring, unusual in that it had no setting of | jade. Warrington offered three soy l ereigns for it. The Chinaman smiled and put the ring away. Warrington | laughed and laid down five pieces of | gold. The Chinaman swept them up in his lean dry hands And Warning ton departed, wondering if she would accept such token.
 By four o'clock he arrived at the Chinese tailors in the Suley Pagoda road. He ordered a suit of pongee. to be done at noon the following day. He l added to this orders for four other suits, to be finished within week | Then he went to the shoemaker, to the natter. to the haberdasher. All this business because he wanted her to realize what he had been and yet could be Thus vanity sometimes works out a mans salvation. And it marked the end of Warrington's recidivation.
 When he reached his lodging house he sought the Burmese landlady. She greeted him with a smile and a stiff little shake of the hand He owed her money. but that was nothing Had he not sent her drunken European sailorman husband about his busi- ness? Had he not freed her from a tyranny of fists and curses? It had not affected her in the least to learn