Often and often, in those first few months, he knew what it was to have
to think more than twice before spending a sixpence for food; he grew,
too, to dread the coming of the wheezy old dame with a certain
red-covered little book which contained the account for his breakfasts
and for her own personal attendance upon him; invented excuses, now and
then, to go out, so as to miss seeing her. But in some fashion he
managed to pay that; managed also to put aside a little towards that big
item--rent. Though that was a nightmare, indeed--a thing that meant the
counting of days with a palpitating heart.
He found his way, quite naturally, to the British Museum and its
reading-room; discovered also near it a tiny tea shop, where, provided
you bought butter-and only one pat at that--you might eat as much bread
as ever you liked. Oh--a blessed institution, and one to be encouraged!
So, struggling along, with an occasional flutter of the heart--(only
very occasional this) at the sight of his name on a list of contents of
some small paper; often hungry, and much perplexed at times over the
question of clothes; with a wistful eye to the great men at the top, who
had begun long ago perhaps in some such fashion as this; Jimmy trod the
ways of freedom with a fair amount of contentment.
CHAPTER III
THE COMPLETE LETTER-WRITER
"I've been making up my mind to it for a long time; now I shall do it."
Patience sat upright in her chair, and stared, not at the girl, but at
the window of the room; she shook her head resolutely. "I shall do it in
my own way--and it isn't as if it'll cost much. It'll only want two
sheets--or an extra one, in case of a blot or anything like that, and
I'll have 'em black-edged."
Moira looked at her for a moment in silence. "Why black-edged,
Patience?" she asked at last.
"More respectable, if it isn't too deep. There's a something about a
black edge that takes away any flippancy; with anybody elderly like me
it's always more decent. If you wouldn't mind, my dear, getting three or
four sheets--and envelopes to match--I could set about it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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