"You haven't got it
finished, then?"
"No, it didn't get finished."
My eyes by this time are filled with tears at his friendliness, and I
cough with a bitter effort to regain my composure. The "Commandor" tweaks
his nose and looks at me.
"Have you anything to live on in the meantime?" he questions.
"No," I reply. "I haven't that either; I haven't eaten anything today,
but...."
"The Lord preserve you, man, it will never do for you to go and starve
yourself to death," he exclaims, feeling in his pocket.
This causes a feeling of shame to awake in me, and I stagger over to the
wall and hold on to it. I see him finger in his purse, and he hands me
half-a-sovereign.
He makes no fuss about it, simply gives me half-a-sovereign, reiterating
at the same time that it would never do to let me starve to death. I
stammered an objection and did not take it all at once. It is shameful of
me to ... it was really too much....
"Hurry up," he says, looking at his watch. "I have been waiting for the
train; I hear it coming now."
I took the money; I was dumb with joy, and never said a word; I didn't
even thank him once.
"It isn't worth while feeling put out about it," said the "Commandor" at
last. "I know you can write for it."
And so off he went.
When he had gone a few steps, I remembered all at once that I had not
thanked him for this great assistance. I tried to overtake him, but could
not get on quickly enough; my legs failed me, and I came near tumbling on
my face.
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