rapidly toward Westminster, then he poured the gold into his pocket.
All those whom Stranleigh had aroused that night showed the cringing disposition of the very poor. They seemed anxious about one thing only, which was to say whatever might please the man who accosted them, in the hope of obtaining a sixpence or a few coppers at the end of the discourse. They represented merely human débris, and even the optimistic Stranleigh realised that they were of no use either to humanity or themselves. The money he gave them would be spent, and afterwards they would sink into the same condition in which he found them. He drew a deep sigh of disappointment at the result of his experiment.
He was nearing Westminster Bridge when he noticed some distance ahead a man whose arms rested on the top of the river wall, the one person, except the policeman, he had seen that night ignoring the meagre comfort of the benches. As he neared this person Stranleigh stopped, and himself leaned against the parapet, just under the ornamental lamp-post that rose from the wall. Stranleigh himself was in comparative obscurity, but the lamp shone full on the intellectual face of the stranger. It was a pathetic countenance, indicating great
