At breakfast he ate heartily, though he was alone; he looked at the small batch of letters which awaited him, and when he opened his newspaper he positively laughed at the opinions expressed in the leading article. He nearly broke into another laugh as he read the news from America, and then--with a gesture which horrified the two solemn servants who had watched the unaccountable change in their master’s manner, he tore the paper rapidly into four pieces and threw it on the floor. Having done this he jumped up gaily, nodded to the menials, said “You didn’t expect that,” walked briskly out, took his hat and coat and with no conscious purpose but as habit moved him jumped into a motor-bus going East. The conductor, who had a respect for Sir Charles Repton’s clothes, and especially for his spats, and who seemed to recognise his face, asked him gently how much he desired to spend upon a ticket: to which he answered in a breezy manner, “Penny of course. Never pay more than a penny; then if the beastly thing breaks down you’re not out of pocket ... ’sides which,” he went on as though talking to himself, “if they forget about you you can have tuppence-worth or thruppence-worth for the same money!” And he chuckled. The conductor looked at him first in terror, then smiled responsively and went forward to deal with less fortunate people, while Sir Charles hummed gently to himself,--a little out of tune but none the less cheerfully on that account--an air of ribald associations. The top of the bus was pretty full, and a workman who had occasion to travel in the same direction as his betters saw fit to sit down in the one empty place beside the Baronet. It would have been difficult to decide upon what occupation this honest man had most recently been engaged: but there had certainly entered into it oil, wet clay, probably soot, and considerable masses of oxidised copper. It was not remarkable, therefore, that, beside such a companion, especially as that companion was a large man, Sir Charles should have found himself considerably incommoded. What _was_ remarkable was the manner in which the Baronet expressed his annoyance. He turned round upon the workman with an irritated frown and said: “I can’t make out why they allow people like you on omnibuses!” “Yer carn’t wort?” said the breadwinner in a threatening voice. “I say I · can’t · make · out,” answered Sir Charles, carefully picking out each word--“I · can’t · make · out · why · they · allow · people · like · you on omnibuses,--dirty _brutes_ like you, I should say. Why the devil....”