I got ashamed to look at him. One night I sat in a corner, the picture of dejection and despair, when a big, broad-shouldered man sat down beside me.
"You look as if you thought God was dead!" he said, smiling.
"He appears to be," I replied.
He put his big hand on my shoulder, looked into my eyes, and drew out of me my story. I forget what he said, it was brief and perhaps commonplace, but I went out to walk the streets that night, full of hope and courage. Before leaving that night I approached the little man at the employment desk.
"Did you see that big fellow in a gray suit?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Who is he?"
"Mr. McBurney."
"The man whose name is on your letterhead?"