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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
84
"You
are
the
man
I
have
been
expecting."
He
did
not
reply,
only
flashed
his
eyes
up
at
me,
wherein
fear
deepened.
"I
have
been
saving
up
a
coat
for
you,"
I
said,
"and
a
pair
of
shoes.
They
are
not
much
worn,"
I
said,
"but
a
little
too
small
for
me.
I
think
they
will
fit
you."
He
looked
at
me
again,
not
sharply,
but
with
a
sort
of
weak
cunning.
So
far
he
had
not
said
a
word.
"I
think
our
supper
is
nearly
ready,"
I
said:
"let
us
go
in."
"No,
mister,"
he
mumbled,
"a
bite
out
here--no,
mister"--and
then,
as
though
the
sound
of
his
own
voice
inspired
him,
he
grew
declamatory.
"I'm
a
respectable
man,
mister,
plumber
by
trade,
but----"
"But,"
I
interrupted,
"you
can't
get
any
work,
you're
cold
and
you
haven't
had
anything
to
eat
for
two
days,
so
you
are
walking
out
here
in
the
country
where
we
farmers
have
no
plumbing
to
do.
At
home
you
have
a
starving
wife
and
three
small
children----"
"Six,
mister----"
"Well,
six--And
now
we
will
go
in
to
supper."
I
led
him
into
the
entry
way
and
poured
for
him
a
big
basin
of
hot
water.
As
I
stepped
out
again
with
a
comb
he
was
slinking
toward
the
doorway.
"Here,"
I
said,
"is
a
comb;
we
are
having
supper
now
in
a
few
minutes."
I
wish
I
could
picture
Harriet's
face
when
I
brought
him
into
her
immaculate
kitchen.
But
I
gave
her
a
look,
one
of
the
commanding
sort
that
I
can
put
on
in
times
of
great
emergency,
and
she
silently
laid
another
place
at
the
table.
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