30 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.
"To save my honour ! "
" Would you have had me tell him the real reason I called him was that his master was a thief? No, sir, I was careful not to shed your blood in public, though you had no such care for mine."
" Here is the crown ! " said Grobstock savagely. " Nay, here are three ! " He turned out his breeches-pockets to exhibit their absolute nudity.
" No, no," said Manasseh mildly, " I shall take but two. You had best keep the other — you may want a little silver." He pressed it into the magnate's hand.
"You should not be so prodigal in future," he added, in kindly reproach. " It is bad to be left with nothing in one's pocket — I know the feeling, and can sympathise with you." Grobstock stood speechless, clasping the crown of charity.
Standing thus at the hall door, he had the air of Wilkin- son, surprised by a too generous vail.
Da Costa cut short the crisis by offering his host a pinch from the jewel-crusted snuff-box. Grobstock greedily took the whole box, the beggar resigning it to him without pro- test. In his gratitude for this unexpected favour, Grobstock pocketed the silver insult without further ado, and led the way towards the second-hand clothes. He walked gingerly, so as not to awaken his wife, who was a great amateur ot the siesta, and might issue suddenly from her apartment like a spider, but Manasseh stolidly thumped on the stairs with his staff. Happily the carpet was thick.
The clothes hung in a mahogany wardrobe with a plate- glass front in Grobstock's elegantly appointed bedchamber.
Grobstock rummaged among them while Manasseh, parting the white Persian curtains lined with pale pink, gazed out of the window towards the Tenterground that stretched in the rear of the mansion. Leaning on his staff,
