She burst into tears; not with any violence, but rather with as near an approach to happiness as the dull routine of her hard life had left her capable of. She began to assure him, with a gratitude which was pitiful, that she saw what he was in his face directly she met him; mentioned, between her exclamations of relief, the exact sum to a halfpenny which was then due; and felt her small horizon cleared of clouds by the appearance of a banknote. The bill paid and duly receipted, she broke into extravagant praise of her lodger--of his manners, of his cleverness, of his wit. Comethup begged to be taken to him, and she led the way up the stairs with alacrity, and ushered him into Brian's room with smiles and ejaculations of respect which must have given the whole business away to the most innocent mind. Brian Carlaw was lying on a sofa near the window, smoking a cigarette and reading. Books and papers were strewn in all directions--flung about, it would almost appear, with something of studied carelessness. The whole place was full of the reek of stale tobacco; the man on the sofa appeared, late though it was, to be but just out of bed, so carelessly dressed and so generally unkempt was he. He did not rise, but waved a hand toward Comethup by way of welcome. The landlady, with murmurs, had gone out and closed the door. "My dear old chap, this is a surprise indeed. Somehow or other I've lost sight of you--couldn't find you anywhere. In moments of desperation I've even taken to hanging about outside that aristocratic town residence; of yours in the hope of seeing you, but I've only seen my afflicted aunt drive out alone. Where have you been, my young Croesus?" "Oh, I've been away. Your letter was sent on to me, and so, as I returned to-day, I came straight here. I'm sorry to hear that things have gone so badly with you." "My dear boy, when did they ever go well? I was brought into this world first with a disposition to sit in the sunshine and play with flowers; and yet it seems to me that there's always a howling tempest as a sort of cheerful music to accompany me on my journey through life, and a snowstorm thrown in, just for luck. I was born for fair and pleasant things; I get only hard ones. I am the plaything of the gods, and the favourite game of the gods appears to be football. My very landlady looks at me with an expression which tells me I am little else than a robber of the widow and the fatherless; my sensitive soul will not permit me to meet her eye at meal times." "Oh, I don't think I'd worry about her any more if I were you," said Comethup. "I took the liberty, in order to save you any trouble, of settling up with her. I hope you don't mind."