The wanderer rose to his feet. "Thanks, little man." And he strode off.
The lad stared wonderingly at the retreating figure, whose heavy steps sounded like sighs of pain from the breast of the trodden road.
THE CUPBOARD
"Come in," said the key invitingly.
But the weary man stood motionless, paralysed by the thought that had come to him as he reached the door.
"Come in—you've waited long enough in coming."
And the weary man grasped the key, but stood holding it helplessly, like a child without strength to turn it.
It rattled in the lock under his trembling fingers. The noise roused him; he opened the door and went in.
* * * * *
It was like entering a church. A solemn, expectant silence hung over the place—it was just as it had been when, as a child, he had first been taken to church.