But after these momentary flashes of determination, the depression habitual to him settled down with increased density upon his mind, and, realizing how helpless he was, he buried his face in his hands and groaned in hopeless despair. It is difficult for a starving man to be brave for long. What could he do? Absolutely nothing. He might drop dead from exhaustion before he got a chance to earn a meal, though he tramped the huge city searching for work. The trade he knew was already overcrowded with thousands of men, eager for the place he had been compelled to abandon. Even the street crossings were owned by impoverished wretches who earned what living they got by sweeping them. If he were presented with a crossing, he had not the money to buy a broom. Gibbons, fool though he might be, spoke the truth when he said a workingman was but a cog in a large wheel: the wheel might get a new cog, or a new set of cogs, but the cog separated from the wheel was as useless as a bit of old iron. Langly stole softly in upon his stricken friend, closing the door stealthily after him, with the bearing of a man about to commit a crime and certain of being caught. Braunt gave him no greeting, but glowered upon him from under his frowning, shaggy eyebrows. “There is some money here that you are to take,” said the organist timidly, placing a heap of coins on the table. Braunt, with an angry gesture, swept away the pile, and the silver jingled on the floor. “Ah’ll have none o’ thy money, as Ah’ve told ’ee before!” he roared. “Ah can earn ma money, if Ah boot get th chance.” Langly, with no word of remonstrance, stooped and patiently collected every scattered piece. “It is not my money,” he said, on rising. “It was sent to you, and is for you and for no one else. It belongs to you: I have no right to it, and this very money you yourself have earned. I don’t know who has a better claim to it.” Again placing the silver and gold on the table, Langly tiptoed out of the room in some haste, before Braunt could collect his wits and make reply. The Yorkshireman, with curious inconsistency, had accepted without question the money which had saved his child from a pauper funeral, although he must have known, had he reflected, that the expenses were paid by some one; yet charity which did not come direct awakened no resentment in his turbulent nature, while the bald offer of money or food sent him instantly into a tempest of anger.