Outside an eating-house in Grand Street I stopped, and turned over in my
mind, calmly and quietly, if I should venture so soon to take a little
refreshment. I could hear the rattle of knives and plates inside, and the
sound of meat being pounded. The temptation was too strong for me--I
entered.
"A helping of beef," I say.
"One beef!" calls the waitress down through the door to the lift.
I sat down by myself at a little table next to the door, and prepared to
wait. It was somewhat dark where I was sitting, and I felt tolerably well
concealed, and set myself to have a serious think. Every now and then the
waitress glanced over at me inquiringly. My first downright dishonesty was
accomplished--my first theft. Compared to this, all my earlier escapades
were as nothing--my first great fall.... Well and good! There was no help
for it. For that matter, it was open to me to settle it with the
shopkeeper later on, on a more opportune occasion. It need not go any
farther with me. Besides that, I had not taken upon myself to live more
honourably than all the other folk; there was no contract that....
"Do you think that beef will soon be here?"
"Yes; immediately"; the waitress opens the trapdoor, and looks down into
the kitchen.
But suppose the affair did crop up some day? If the shop-boy were to get
suspicious and begin to think over the transaction about the bread, and
the florin of which the woman got the change? It was not impossible that
he would discover it some day, perhaps the next time I went there.
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