The twinkle lit up again in the eyes of the other; he put up his hand in deprecation.
‘Be gentle,’ he said, ‘with poor Joe.’
How was it possible to maintain the air of a virtuous superior with this smiling criminal? John was more and more abashed and embarrassed.
‘I thought,’ he said, ‘that if you had time to look out—for your real friends——’
‘It was simple charity, then?’ said the man, with a faint sigh: and then he smiled again. ‘At least it was a kind thought. You wanted to deliver me from the evil connections into which you thought I had fallen, in coming out, for lack of better. It was a very kind thought.’
John felt himself draw a long breath, almost a gasp of astonishment and relief and utter confusion of mind. He had felt himself the benefactor, doing indeed a very kind action, something that perhaps not many men would have done: and he was altogether taken aback by this generous appreciation of his good motive.
‘You were right enough,’ said the other, ‘quite right if I had been a more hopeful subject. But you’re too young to know all the ins and the outs of it. I have no real friends. Joe may, or may not, be faithful, poor fellow, but he’s the only human creature who sticks to me, and I am used to him. It was a kind thought on your part, but one that couldn’t come to anything. I partially divined it, so I left the place. I could not enjoy the clean sheets and the tidy room under false pretences; no less thanks to you, my young friend.’
‘But——’ said John, ‘you are not surely going to let yourself sink? you, a man evidently of education, of sense, of understanding——’
‘Sink—to what? Can one sink any deeper? I had all these things when I went—wrong, as people say. If they did not prevent me then, how do you think they are going to stop me now?’
John could do nothing but gasp and draw his breath, and stare at this calm statement. The speaker, after a moment’s pause, looked at him closely, and said,