174
THE FOUR PHILANTHROPISTS
sovereigns out of it on to the table and pushed them across to him.
I never saw such a curious look on a human face. It was half unbelieving joy, half absolute terror. He put out his hand and touched them with the tips of trembling fingers. Then he scrabbled them into his palm, jumped up and muttered hoarsely, "I must get home! They're hungry at home—hungry!" And he ran out of the bar.
"The old address!" I shouted after him, but I doubted that he heard me.
