Then he rose to his feet, took in a long breath of the fresh morning
air, and started briskly across the Common towards the nearest railway
station.
He was conscious, after the first few steps, of a dim premonition of
some coming change. It did not affect--indeed, it seemed to increase
the lightness of his spirits, yet he was conscious at the back of his
brain of a fear which he could not put into words. The first indication
of real trouble came in the fact that he found himself whistling
"Yip-i-addy-i-ay" as he turned into the station yard. He knew then what
was coming.
After the first start, the rapidity of his collapse was appalling. The
seclusion of the first-class carriage to which his ticket entitled him,
and which his somewhat peculiar toilet certainly rendered advisable, was
suddenly immensely distasteful. He bought Tit-bits and Ally Sloper at
the bookstall, squeezed his way into a crowded third-class compartment,
and joined in a noisy game of nap with half a dozen roistering young
clerks, who were full of jokes about his crumpled dinner clothes.
Arrived in London, he had the utmost difficulty to refrain from buying a
red and yellow tie displayed in the station lavatory where he washed and
shaved, and the necessity for purchasing a collar stud left him for a
few moments in imminent peril of acquiring a large brass-stemmed
production with a sham diamond head.
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