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The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
92
It
happened
now
and
then
that,
on
reaching
the
house
at
Knightsbridge,
I
was
informed
that
Mr.
---
felt
too
tired
to
rise.
This
concerned
me
little,
for
it
meant
no
deduction
of
fee;
I
had
the
two
hours'
walk,
and
was
all
the
better
for
it.
Then
the
appetite
with
which
I
sat
down
to
breakfast,
whether
I
had
done
my
coaching
or
not!
Bread
and
butter
and
coffee--such
coffee!--made
the
meal,
and
I
ate
like
a
navvy.
I
was
in
magnificent
spirits.
All
the
way
home
I
had
been
thinking
of
my
day's
work,
and
the
morning
brain,
clarified
and
whipped
to
vigour
by
that
brisk
exercise,
by
that
wholesome
hunger,
wrought
its
best.
The
last
mouthful
swallowed,
I
was
seated
at
my
writing-table;
aye,
and
there
I
sat
for
seven
or
eight
hours,
with
a
short
munching
interval,
working
as
only
few
men
worked
in
all
London,
with
pleasure,
zeal,
hope.
.
.
.
Yes,
yes,
those
were
the
good
days.
They
did
not
last
long;
before
and
after
them
were
cares,
miseries,
endurance
multiform.
I
have
always
felt
grateful
to
Mr.
---
of
Knightsbridge;
he
gave
me
a
year
of
health,
and
almost
of
peace.
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