His money lasted about a week. Then he pawned his watch and chain for
£10, and had fooled that away before he knew it. He got five more for
his links and studs, and that went. There was nothing left but the
clothes he stood up in. They were already in a state in which he had
never dreamt that clothes of his could ever be. It is unnecessary to
enter into details, but his full wardrobe was in what, a very short
time ago, would have been to him an unthinkable condition. He had to
get money somehow, or--he could not think or what. He had contemplated
suicide during the first few days; vague thoughts in that direction
still passed through his mind; but--he still lived. If he was to keep
on living, food was necessary. The less chance he had of getting food
the more he seemed to crave for it, with a craving which became sheer
agony.
That November night hunger seemed to be driving him mad. He had lived
during the last week on two or three shillings, but he himself could
scarcely have said how. He had come to look upon a common lodging-house
as a desirable haven, of a Rowton House as positive luxury; he had
slept two nights running in a Salvation Army shelter, and had been
thankful for that. The last three nights he had slept--if he could be
said to have slept at all--out of doors, under the November sky, in
mist and mire, cold and gloom. To-night he found himself in Hyde Park.
No man knows of what he is capable until his whole being cries out for
food, and gets none. When a man who has been nurtured as Sydney Beaton
had finds himself on the verge of starvation, his plight is much worse
than that of the man who has fared hardly all his days. His powers of
resistance are less, in more senses than one. Let so much be urged in
excuse of Sydney Beaton, because that night he went to Hyde Park with
some idea of asking for alms. Darkness, he thought, might shelter him;
in some sort hide his shame. He would not be able to see clearly whom
he accosted; what was much more, they would not be able to see him. But
almost at the outset he had a shock which drove all notion of playing
the beggar from him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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